The Twilight Blade: ReEmergence of the Kuthians
by The Twilight Shadow
Summary: Everything Eragon thought to be true was not, Eragon also learns that the fight against Galbatorix is not something of this world, but of the beyond. But above all, there is a death on the horizon, one Eragon will never forgive Galbatorix for...
1. Part 1: Chapter I and Chapter II

**Author's Notes**

**I do not own Eragon, or any other characters that you may recognize in this story. All characters you don't recognize are made up by me, unless you just have a memory issue, in which case go see a doctor or psychological therapist who might be able to help with it. One is that some parts seem similar to another Fan Fic. I did not copy this off of another fan fic as that would be a stupid idea since Fan Fiction has a safeguard for that. Anyway, the fan fic that seems closely similar to is the one called "Shadow Rider" (VERY good fan fic by the way congratulations to blackbird## {not sure of the exact numbers}. I was completely and utterly captivated by it.) Ok, now that is all out the way, another issue. The title, the title and the very concept of using twilight part is inspired by something personal to me. NOT THE BOOK TWILIGHT! **

**And last, if you see bold numbers within the story, scroll down to the bottom of the page to read a description.**

_The Rider of the Twilight Blade_

It was 2 days after the battle on the Burning Plains, Eragon awoke to the sound of marching men. His body felt sore, he felt exhausted, and tired. He wanted to just lie there, forgetting where he was and who he was and just sleep to the rhythmic sound of marching boots. He looked to his left to see cousin, and he wondered what Roran could be dreaming of. His cousin's head was on its side, captured in a deep sleep. His body was less tense then before, and was loose. Unlike the night before, he looked in a much better condition than before, and looked fairly well rested. As he lay there thinking, he remembered where he was. Sitting up to the sound of boots nearby he wondered why the Varden would be so active early in the morning. Then he remembered the day before, and sat and thought of his identity and who he was. The same thoughts of the day before ran through his mind. Morzan is not my father. Brom and Oromis have been more of a fatherly influence than anyone, and Garrow taught me everything that I should ever have to know. The right way to live and the proper understanding of who I am. As his thoughts came to a close, he thought once again to the stamping of boots. "I should probably get up and see what the commotion is about." He got up and pulled on a tunic, and then continued to strap on his gauntlets, boots, and his shield which he found lying by his side. The shield he strapped on in a diagonal manner across his back, with the top of the shield (this POV is seen from behind) toward his left shoulder, and the bottom, toward his right leg. Because of this, there was a space in the upper right portion of his back. In this space, he strapped his quiver of arrows, and his Elven bow. He continued to strap on his gauntlets. His eyesight was extremely well, and could tell that it was still dawn, before the sun rose.

He silently moved toward the entrance of his tent, when something brushed against his leg, producing a faint clink as whatever it was met his metal boot. He looked down, and found something lying beside his foot, from the distance it was glassy and smooth, but upon closer inspection, it was more clear. It was a flute that the elves used to play music. However unlike normal, elven wooden flutes, this one was made of an unknown metal, and it was inscribed with a symbol. The symbol was a golden and black semi circle. The crescent moon shaped symbol was facing downward, so that it formed a type of dome. Within the crescent was what appeared to be the image of a black blade facing downward as well. The length of the blade, was long enough so that it extended past the crescent, and it ended about a finger's breadth away from the mouth piece of the flute. He did not know where it came from, so he decided to keep it, in hopes that Arya might recognize it. Also unlike other flutes and instruments, was its color. Instead of black and glossy as he first observed, it was really a dark void. It blended in with everything it was nearby, from a distance of about 2 feet even, it blended perfectly with the shadows. Once again he wondered if Arya would recognize this strange instrument. "Arya..." he thought. "What could she be doing?" As Eragon exited the tent, making sure not to wake up Roran on his way out, a man riding a horse galloped amongst the troops and tents to him. "Hail Shadeslayer!" the man cried out.

"It is most likely a messenger from Nasuada." said Saphira. "Glad to see your awake!" said Eragon. Eragon felt overjoyed at the sound of her voice. His mind felt clouded as he awoke, his mind processing the various bits of information that he received, and hearing Saphira's voice cleared his mind of all that blinded him. "The feeling is mutual then. Now hurry and see what the messenger has to say!" Eragon nodded and could only wonder what the messenger could want so early in the morning. Or rather who would want him so early in the morning. Eragon walked forward and asked, "Hello, what may I do for you?" The horseman urged his horse to move closer. "Lady Nasuada wishes to see you in her tent. The matters are of great importance." said the horse rider. "Very well then," replied Eragon, "we will be there shortly." From behind the tent arose Saphira. Her wings had returned to their normal color after she was healed, the blood loss had left her wing's near colorless. At first, the blood loss worried Eragon. But seeing her as she was now, swept all his doubt away. "She is a mighty creature." he thought. Eragon clambered onto Saphira's unsaddled back, wincing with every bump and jolt as Saphira made her way towards Nasuada's tent. As Eragon reached Nasuada's tent, he sensed that she was tense, that her mind seemed full of energy, ready to burst. "We should enter cautiously stated Saphira." As Eragon thought of her words, and re-examined Nasuada's mind from a distance, he could only agree. He entered and immediately his eyes observed the people inside. Accompanying Nasuada was Orik, Arya, and King Orrin.

"You called for me my liege?" said Eragon. At the sound of his voice, Nasuada stiffened, then relaxed when she recognized it as Eragon's ."Yes I have," said Nasuada "We have been discussing our plan of action, and we have decided to move forward to the town of Belatona. From there we plan to march around Leona Lake and then begin the siege at Dras-Leona." Eragon was surprised because of this gesture. To make a move against the Empire so soon after their heavy losses in the battle several days ago seemed unnerving as he thought of the many people who died in the previous battle. He thought about it some more, and then wondered how they intended to lay siege to an enourmous city as Dras Leona with the amount of men they had. They already suffered countless losses, with humans, dwarves, and worst of all, Hrothgar the Dwarf King. "Wouldn't that be a risky idea?" Eragon said slowly, "I do not question the will that you have in this decision, nor the fact that you must have thought of it for quite some time to come to such a conclusion. However how do you hope to lay siege when our forces have been limited to such numbers?"

Nasuada hesitated for a moment, as if to get her words together, then she replied, "I understand why you would deduce such a thing, however I intend to lay siege to Dras-Leona because we can gain valuable supplies there, as for soldiers, we have recruited many people through out Surda, and we have also spread word of your arrival in the surrounding areas. Many have come to fight because our battle here. We need supplies, which we can recieve at Dras Leona, though money is no longer an issue to us." Eragon nodded, hearing her decision, he decided it was best to make his known as well. "As for me my lady, I believe I must go to see an old friend of mine, I promised that I would see him after the battle. Not only that, but I have some personal matters to attend to." Nasuada frowned, What could he possibly mean? We need him now more than ever! Yet he hasn't made an irrational decision... yet... "May I ask what your personal matters may imply to?" asked Nasuada once she gathered her thoughts. "It is something that I cannot say, nor do I have the knowledge to explain." said Eragon, "but know this Nasuada, what I must do may aid the Varden much more greatly then I can right now." Eragon knew she wanted to know a bit more and wondered "Should I tell her about the flute?"

"I dont think it would be a good idea, to mention it to her." said Saphira. "For an object to appear as if from thin air in YOUR tent would only worry her, and judging from what you understood by sensing her mind, another worry isn't exactly something we could afford." Taking this advice, he said as he left the tent without turning, "It involves a counsel that was said to me by a werecat that I intend to follow. From there, I will see what must be done." Through this he implied what he intended to do with the counsel but not about the instrument.

He strode out of the tent without saying another word and walked toward his own tent. He entered finding Roran fully dressed, clad with basic armor provided by the Varden, his regular hammer replaced with a war hammer. They looked into each other's eyes with a mutual understanding that they both fought for something, that they both had their own purpose. "I want you to come with me Roran," said Eragon "I intend to go return to the Elves to see my master and to continue my training, however from there I must go find something that could potentially help me." Roran seemed to think about it for a moment, he was hesitant, but he replied, "I understand your need to do so, however I must rescue Katrina, there is no telling what those demons might have done to her. You owe me for that as well, and you understand that." Eragon, understanding his cousin's desire to find Katrina, thought of how he should approach Roran with this task of convincing him to come with him. He also understood that if he could not give Roran a sufficient answer, he would take whoever he could and go after the Raz'ac himself. "Roran, I understand that nothing else means more to you then rescuing Katrina, however what I need is more important for now, not only that, but later we will be joining the Varden at Dras-Leona, from there we will be able to attack Helgrind with the support of the Varden. Eragon looked at him to see his reaction, and it came. With a sigh Roran said,

"Aye, I can see your logic in then, you have grown plenty Eragon, both in strength, and intelligence. I can only hope that it can help us in that last fight before Galbatorix himself."

_A Memory_

Eragon watched the ground as the Varden below passed by out of sight underneath the clouds. "This is going to be a long journey." he thought. He felt the cool breeze on his face as the land sped by beneath them. Roran holding his back tightly, did not seem to taking the flying idea very well. He already threw up several times, leaving a bit on Saphira's scales, to which she corkscrewed while performing a loop in the air, which resulted in Roran hurling his breakfast back down towards the Varden.

From what Eragon saw to his absolute horror with excruciating detail (with his vision now improved ever since his transformation), it landed right onto Arya's bow and sword as well as her belt which was also right next to Orik who was guarding her precious elven equipment. Orik, who was less fortunate than the equipment received a seriesof splattering goop which landed on his helmet, ax, boots, and chest plate.

And what made it more horrifying was that Orik continued to run in the direction Saphira was flying in order to escape the barrage of breakfast. So he continued to receive a rain of Roran's meal until he stopped running and yelled out "In the name of Guntera's black beard! Eragon!". It was quite an amusing sight honestly! Orik with his beard filled with Roran's regurgitated breakfast as well as Arya staring down in disbelief at her equipment.

_FLY SAPHIRA FLY!_

_I already am, hold on, and tell Roran that if he throws up one more time on my scales, his breakfast won't be the only thing falling off._

_Good grief, first I bring Arya to openly ending our friendship in Du Weldenvarden because of my confession, then our friendship is remade, and now it has been tarnished by mead, meat, and bread._

Eragon repeated Saphira's message to Roran and laughed as Roran's face paled.

"Eragon, is it possible for justice be brought against a dragon for murder?" Eragon laughed once more as they flew from the Varden through the clouds.

They covered much ground that day, with the Hadarac Desert speeding below them. They were able to reach Du Weldenvarden by midnight. Eragon however, realizing that in his haste to see Oromis to continue his training, he forgot to make a trip to Surda to get supplies, mainly fruits and vegetables for him. They made camp, and Eragon went out to look for some food to eat.

While Eragon was gone, Saphira stared at Roran with an icy silence, the scent of regurgitated breakfast lingering across her scales, as Roran shuddered at the thought offlying Saphira again, and shuddered once more when he realized that he was in the presence of an enormous fire breathing dragon with more intelligence than he could ever hopefor, that was also extremely irritated at him for him throwing up all over her beautiful scales which was more precious than an entire hoard of treasure. "Not exactly the bestimpression to give to your cousin's dragon Roran, not good at all..." Roran muttered to himself.

He breathed an audible sigh of relief as Eragon re-entered the camp as being alone with Saphira brought a fear in him that he didn't understand.

"Well I got us some dinner, unless of course you wish to eat meat, in which case you will find it in your bags." Roran looked back at Saphira who was chewing on the remains of her kill earlier thatday, he then looked upon the bags upon her tall shoulders as she looked back at him with a cold glare. "No thanks, fruits every once in a while can't really hurt can it?" Eragon looked at Roran with genuine interest at what he could be wondering of whether it was Saphira he was anxious about, or rescuing Katrina though he suspected itwas the latter. He did seem afterall nervous in his entirety, not just when with Saphira.

They decided to sleep when the owls finally came out of the trees and sang their everlasting symphonies, transforming the night into an orchestraic era to which Eragon soon lost himself in. As Eragon slept he began to dream of Saphira, he began to dream of his childhood and how it led up to meeting Saphira, he dreamed of his experiences since leaving Carvahall with Brom. He dreamed of Arya, the way she spoke, how mysterious she was, how she laughed, how relaxed she felt as she made peace with her then, he dreamed of her rejection. The pain all came crashing down on him. The loss of Garrow, the encounter at Yazuac, Brom's death, losing Murtagh, the crippled Oromis, Glaedr and his handicap. Most of all however, the one thing that dwarfed it all, was the pain that was brought on all these people all because of Galbatorix, the hatred within him towards Galbatorix clouded his dreams, when suddenly it felt as if his mind fell into oblivion.

Eragon got up and looked around. He seemed to be on a stone platform, whose ground could not be seen because of a black and golden mist that seemed to permeate through the stone itself. There was a man standing in the middle of the platform, with his back to him.

"Eragon, you have not fully mastered Malthinaejohdr " **1. **said the man. The man was tall and slender, his clothes were composed of many layers, and draped down his back until it reached his waist. His head was under a hood, and when he turned to face Eragon, the lower portion of his face as Eragon saw, was covered by a cloth so that only his eyes and forehead were seen. Then Eragon started speaking to the was as if his voice was speaking of it's own accord even if he tried to stop himself, the conversation between the stranger and his body as he guessed it continued.

"But I have come so far and learned so much! How long do you intend to keep me here in this world, where time itself seems to stop?"

The man replied "Until you have mastered what has been laid before you. Whether it is the test of the blade or magic, this weapon is far too powerful for you to control at this time. Become stronger, understand what power is, the very concept of it, how it is a gift that is to be received with responsibility, and then return to me, then we shall see if Malthinaejohdr finds you worthy. As the man spoke those words, Eragon woke.

_**Review Me**_

_**Alright then dudes, this is actually my edited version of the first chapter. It didn't seem to have enough and seemed to put off other readers when they saw how lame the first couple of chapters were/are. For those of you reading this now, consider yourselves lucky, you reading a much more succinct version of the earlier chapters. BTW I'm morphing chapters one and two just to make it a lot more whole. I wrote the chapters themselves a while ago, and I assure you, the later chapters are much more longer and succinct.**_

_**Twilight S.**_

_**1. It is pronounced mal-thin-ay-jo-der. If you can't figure out what that means, find your nearest Eragon book and look at the language guide in the back.**_


	2. Part 1: Chapter III

**Author's Note: Yeah I know, it's been way to long since I last added a chapter. **

**High School forbids it, but I say FIGHT THE POWER! …….. As we speak I am currently typing up this story while simultaneously listening to what my teacher has to say about advanced physics, and right now, terminal velocity. You can see why I prefer this. Anyway, I have received a review from a friend and I have realized that I need a better way of explaining certain things to you instead of leaving them in parentheses right next to the sentence or word. I found a new system, one that I knew about, but never thought of using in my fan fics, until I saw it yesterday when reading a fan fic.**

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_The Silent Serenade_

As Eragon awoke to the sounds of the birds singing, he thought about the dream that racked his mind the night before. He began to wonder what it could possibly mean, andlike his vision of the Burning Plains, wondered if it was of the future or if it was important. As he thought of this, he felt something against his hand. He got up and rubbed his eyesand looked. And there before him, was the instrument that he found on the Burning Plains. As he saw it, he was filled with curiosity and a bit of sadness that he couldn't havetaken some time to ask Arya of it. Debating on what to do with it, he decided that he should ask Oromis about it.

"Oromis!" he nearly shouted out loud. _He must be angry that we haven't been able to continue our training, we should get to Ellesméra as soon as possible. _

"_That we should little one." _

"_Good then your awake, now all we have to do is wake up Roran."_

"_Or you could use the Ancient language to keep him asleep until we reach Ellesméra, therefore solving Roran's flying issue as well as saving us a great amount of time."_

"_Or that, you seem to still be annoyed with Roran and the whole breakfast incident. Well I'll start packing while I put him to sleep."_

As Eragon packed and put his possessions together, he wondered what Oromis might say if he mentioned the instrument. He also wondered what he should ask Oromis concerning his bloodline and how Murtagh amassed that much power, how he could have possibly become that strong in such a short amount of time. _Well, I'm ready, I shouldalert Saphira, we should move quickly._

Wiping the dew off of his shield, he marveled at it's craftsmanship. The outside edge reached about 2 inches towards the middle of the shield. The edge was a deep red masterfully polished to a chrome finish which in a sorrowful and nauseating sense, reminded him of Zar'roc. The inside portion of the shield was made of steel. The inside was also a marvel, with elven designs engraved into it, yet with the skill that only a dwarf could possess…or Rhunon. And then something stunned him, a realization that hit his very core. _I lost my dwarven shield during the fight with Murtagh... where did this come from!?_ _I can't remember anyone giving this to me!  
_

Eragon jumped on Saphira while slinging Roran onto his shoulder. As he placed Roran into the saddle, the worry and fear began to creep through his mind towards Saphira. Saphira took off, leaving waves of dust floating in her wake, as the trees bent back from the gales of Saphira's wings. She felt his worry, but he concealed it before she could ask. She simply assumed he was anxious to see Oromis. As Ellesméra sped beneath them, they were seen by multiple Elves, as well as several animals. Eragon could have sworn that he saw Maud flitting through the trees as well.

"_It looks like the whole forest is in turmoil. No doubt because of the call of war," _thought Eragon.

"_Yes little one. Though I wonder if Oromis might have had close friends who were called upon for the war."_

"_That is an intriguing question. I never really thought about that. Though seeing as most of his life was spent among the Riders, I'm sure that the greater portion of his close friends have been killed by Galbatorix and the Forsworn."_

After several minutes of silence and flight, they landed in the secluded glen that was close to the clearing where Oromis lived. Through his mind, he gave Oromis' mind a slight nudge to notify him of Eragon's presence. At first his mind seemed startled, but as the mind felt Eragon's it relaxed. Eragon could see the joy as well as the concern asOromis strode from the hut to him. "You have returned." He said it as a statement rather than a question, seeing this, Eragon remained silent and nodded to express his answer.

"Though you have returned, I sense that you feel troubled, as well as concerned. Would you like to affirm your situation?" Seeing this opportunity to ask his many questions, Eragon took a moment to think on what should be said first. He decided that the most logical thing would be to explain the situation and then ask his questions. So he began to tell Oromis about the Burning Plains, of the theft of Zar'roc, and of the Red Rider, to which Oromis' face grew cold and emotionless. He continued to tell of his meeting with Roran, to which Oromis seemed to show some forms of amusement, pain, andhappiness, upon hearing that.

"It appears that you have been through much since you have left this place. There is much that we must do that shall prepare you for your next encounter with Murtagh. Andto calm your mind, I did know that your bloodline was of Morzan, and the reason why I didn't tell you was because if I did, then you would have been distracted by your bloodline as well as the fact that by being concentrated on that, the affects it would have had on your learning progress would have been drastic and would not have allowed us to progress as we have thus far.

"Though I would have told you rather than allowing you to hear it in the manner you did on the Burning Plains, I did not feel that you were ready for that bit of when Blagden came speeding into the clearing where I was meditating, and mentioned you and your father, I was worried because that knowledge in the situation that you were in - that is, concerning your back and the scar Durza inflicted on you - could have destroyed your very mind. I cry for your pardon Eragon and your understanding that Inever intended harm by not telling you."

As these words came upon Eragon's ears, his admiration and love for the old Rider seemed to show itself, as Oromis ended his words by saying "Eragon know that all thatI do will be for your benefit, and I have loved you as a father loves a son." Upon hearing that, tears flowed from Eragon's eyes as he thought of how Brom, Garrow, and Oromis were all more than just mentors and uncles and such.

They were the people that he could never forget even if he lived to be ten thousand years old. He realized that their teachings would have an affect on him that would last alifetime. That they were fathers to him in many ways, and acted out the duties that a father would take. That through their teachings his view on the world was shown through their teachings, that his understandings and morals were brought to him by their knowledge, and that through acting in the way that they did, they brought Eragon to where he was now, a Dragon Rider.

As Eragon wiped a tear from his eyes, he looked outside and saw Glaedr and Saphira in what appeared to be a deep conversation. They were no doubt having a similar conversation, when all of a sudden Eragon remembered the instrument that he found and brought his attention back to that. He pulled it out of his pocket and before he showedit to Oromis, he asked him about it. "Oromis, when on the burning plains, I discovered what appeared to be a musical instrument that I have never seen before. It appears to be similar to the elven flutes, yet the design is slightly different, and it produces a different sound... and when I hear it, the world seems to fall away beneath me and I don't know what to feel." When Oromis heard this, he stood and strode over to the shelf of books andspoke a word of the Ancient Language that he didn't recognize. The shelf pulled away, to reveal a small closet. He strode in and received a small scroll. Using the Ancient Language to assist him, he carefully opened the scroll without cracking the paint or the precious ink on the inside.

The scroll opened and as it did, Eragon recognized the painting on the scroll as the painting of the instrument that he found. Oromis must have noted this because he asked Eragon if he could see the instrument as the one he spoke of, and although he knew that it was the same, he was still shocked when he saw it.

"The last time someone has seen such a powerful item asthis, was nearly several thousand years ago. Eragon this could be one of the most greatest thing that ever happened to us since we captured Saphira's egg from Galbatorix. More greater than you meeting me. Hurry Eragon I do not have much time. The tolls of the years has finally acted out against me, and I fear I will not last long, you must go to the Menoa Tree and listen for the Serenade **(1)**. Once you do, play the song with this instrument. Everything after will be revealed to you in due time. Now hurry!"

With that Eragon was thrown from the hut, landing face first several meters away from the entrance of the hut. As Eragon ran to the Menoa Tree, the only thing that he could think was:_I have never seen Master Oromis throw something that far, whether by physical strength or the Ancient Language._

Eragon would have tried to contact Saphira, but she had flown out of the range of his link. _She must be very far away, I can only imagine what Glaedr and her are must have taken her to another secret area for Dragons. I only wish that she was here for this._ Eragon finally arrived at the Menoa Tree, and with that he began to listen for the serenade that Oromis mentioned. As he stayed there under the Menoa Tree, he listened carefully as the burning sun, descended beneath the horizon, and night began to crawl out from the shadows of the forest. As Eragon waited, he decided to meditate, and he once again felt overwhelmed by the Menoa Tree and it's vast presence that seemed to fill his mind.

Then, while Eragon was concentrating on the thoughts of a particular bird, he felt something. It was like a resonance in the air. Though not literally. It was like a sound that he was only able to perceive when he reached out his mind and felt for it. It rippled through his mind as if his mind was a pool of water. It was quiet at first, but eventually it arose to a pitch that which Eragon could hear, almost as if it was within his own head. As Eragon listened, he took note of the fact that none of the other forms of life around him could sense it. It was as if the whole world around him was blind to the sound and that only he was able to perceive it. It was as if all the forests of Ellesméra was stripped down, and the silent echoes of the entire land was brought into this one place.

It was as if at this moment, when Twilight reigned, that another world became close enough to feel it's presence. As if the world that Eragon saw, was the counterpart to a wholedifferent world that was unknown. Where these thoughts came from, or how he thought them Eragon would question later, but at that moment, all he felt was harmony.

Then Eragon began. He began playing the Silent Serenade on the instrument that he found. Again he would later question as to how he played the song, how he knew what the song was, and yet on that day, he would recalled that he was possessed by the song, and probably wouldn't have been able to think at all. Eragon began realized what the song expressed love towards. It expressed love towards the silence and the beauty in it. How through silence, entire worlds and opened up and shown. How within silence, a message is there to the person who searches for the purpose of their life. How through silence, entire messages, emotion, and power can be shown. And that was when it happened. The sound was faint once more, and all Eragon heard was an odd ringing, echoing everywhere, as if someone tapped a bell, and Eragon was placed next to it to hear its resounding noise.

And beneath the roots of the Menoa Tree, a light shown. It was a dim light. It was a brilliant golden light, yet at the same time, the light seemed to have this perpetual darkness with it. That along with the light it provided, it required the darkness as well in order to exist. When Eragon reached the light, he realized he was deep beneath the roots of the Menoa Tree.

And in that second, everything, all of his senses abandoned him, he couldn't see or feel anything. All he heard was silence as he lost all senses and fell into oblivion.

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**Yeah I decided to end it with a cliff hanger moment, once again I apologize for not being able to update for a while, but hey I did do it didn't I? Well anyway, the story is very long, and I have had plenty of time to think about it. And from what I have imagined, I would say that my story will be up to 100 chapters long, and that's no exaggeration. **

**Start _REVIEWING_……. or else**

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1) A serenade is a song/melody that is used to express love for someone or something.


	3. Part 1: Chapter IV

**Author's Note**

**Well it's been a long time, since I have updated, and I'm not surprised, high school has really been picking up and all, so I'm not going to apologize for your sake. Anyway, credits to Paolini etcetera, etcetera, start reading!  
**

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_Bound Silent_

Nothingness, the sensual feeling that he couldn't understand. What could be above, what is below, what is to the left and to my right, and what is behind. A world where you cannot hear, or feel anything. A world where all you see is the beauty of the shadow mixed with light and wonder if you are falling, or rising. The world where Silence rules and Twilight reigns. Such was the world that Eragon found himself in.

He wondered where he was and what exactly happened. Then he remembered the instrument and Du Weldenvarden. He once again tried to look around, but still saw nothing but light and dark. "Saphira?" he tried asking out loud. To his surprise, he found that he could speak and hear himself again.

"Nothing, I can't even feel her." As he stretched his minds to the limits he still could not feel or sense her at all. "HELLO!" he cried out. But none responded. He waited… and waited… and waited.

During this time he waited for what seemed like hours, but then, he saw something in the infinite cycle of dark and light. It was something like a sphere, where the dark and light distorted. It was a curious thing, as if the light and dark stayed apart in that one area. The light and dark swirled around it but they never seemed to touch each other.

As Eragon looked closer, he realized that it seemed to be a platform of some sort, where visibility was much clearer. He also noticed that the mist and fog (also the only reason why he could see all this), was cleared into a pathway, or a corridor of some kind, that led right to the platform. There were no visible walls or floors that led to the area, just open space around it.

Yet as Eragon attempted to walk forward in the curious sense of discovering your legs again, he found that there was an invisible kind of ground that he could walk on. It was absolutely smooth, and as he walked to the left, he found a barrier. He said to himself, "One below, one to my left, and I'm assuming one to my right and above as well." So thought Eragon as he made his way to the platform. When he reached it, he looked around, and as he did, he noticed that there was a raised circular part on the platform.

As he stepped on it, the raised portion started rising. Eragon ran to the edge and as he peered over, he could not discern any means by which the platform could rise in the manner that it did. "Where am I?" he said out loud.

Then, in a low voice, almost beyond his hearing, he heard the response.

"I'm certain you are mystified as to where you are, and why you are here. The reason is unbalance. The world that you know as Alagaesia has been corrupted by the demon you know as Galbatorix. Continue towards the massive tower that lies before you. Within you shall find me. Then we shall continue our conversation, where I shall explain to you more." Then without notice, the fog and mist were torn aside as if someone had savagely torn apart a veil over his eyes. So sudden was it, that he nearly yelped in surprise. After seeing the fog and mist, it was something of a shock to see the tower so clearly in front of him.

It was massive. It felt to Eragon as if he was approaching the Beors once more. It's height was discernible because of its mass. It was tall and slender, and at the bridge which led to it's entrance stood two statues made of an unknown stone, depicting two hooded, cloaked figures both holding blades. One blade was formed of a bright sword, light flowed from it as if it was a cloud and faded from a fluid, more solid like substance into the bright golden fog that permeated the world. The second figure possessed a dark blade, and from it, a black mass seemed to flow, and it faded into the black mist that, like the light, flowed throughout the world. Both stone figures stood on stone platforms evenly balanced with blades drawn and held out. The light figure standing on the right side of the archway holding out the blade of light with his right hand, his elbow's bent pointing the blade towards the sky at an angle. The dark figure was likewise on the left side of the archway holding the blade with his left hand in a likewise fasion Then Eragon finally noticed the third statue. The statues were at different elevations, the dark towering over the light, but below them both was a third statue, only the tip of the hood was visible, and rather than being on the outside of the tower, it was within it, deeper than the others. From within, a light shone, but whether it was light or dark was not distinguishable to Eragon. The odd light that shown gave the figure within it a dark appearance, the light casted shadows on the man's features, leaving his face within shadows, and yet his eyes were clearly visible. They were a fierce sight to see, both eyes were dark grey where they should have been white. And rather than brown, blue, or even green the pupils were dark silver flowing with a deep, blood red as if someone had spilled blood into a darkened pool of mercury. Unlike the other two stone statues, the eyes in this one appeared to be made out of jems, or a metal twisted into a fantastic and enigmatic form of beautiful and striking art form, and yet unlike a jem or a metal, very slowly, but surely, the silver and crimson flowed. It was as if watching clouds creep across the sky at the speed of a snail, and yet unlike slow moving clouds, the colors were more fluid.

As Eragon walked towards the tower, he began to involuntarily take extremely light steps. The world around him was quiet as he crossed the bridge which led to the tower. As he remembered the voice that spoke to him, he also remembered Saphira. "But what about Saphira?" he whispered, hoping that the voice he heard would reply. Yet he received no response. He walked towards the tower in pure of awe of the massive statues and all the while tried to get a better look at the amazing statue before him. He walked towards the tower entrance, and found himself within a massive archway measuring several hundred feet tall. On it's sides, were two massive adorned pillars that depicted two men. They both looked alike, one obviously older than the other, and yet they both had a warm but hidden appearance. Trusting, but cautious, powerful, yet subtle. He looked to the figures and turned back to the two statues that were to the left and right side of the bridge and to his dismay, discovered no similarities. He once again looked above towards the figure hidden within the tower itself, and now that he was underneath, felt completely small and insignificant as he realized the scope of the statue, and then understanding how large the tower was.

_The tower can easily reach the summit of Farthen Dur! The statue would easily dwarf the city in size... and that would mean that it is several miles high!_

Eragon took several steps back to look at the top of the tower, and yet in contrast to what he expected, he could actually see the faint tip of the tower, with a small area jutting outward from the wall of the tower. _A balcony of a sort? _Eragon looked towards the entrance. Two doors guarded the view of the inner depths of the tower, yet as he walked forward, Eragon felt a small, very subtle vibration. All of a sudden, the light and dark mist redirected themselves towards the door, forming two walls of mist to the left and right of Eragon. The sheer mass moving towards the door created a gale that made Eragon feel as if he were in a hurricane. The doors slowly began to open outwards towards him, and what he saw

The massive hall that was before him was tall and cavernous. There were pillars going down the hall as high as the ceiling. The grandeur shocked him as a magnificent golden light began to spill from behind him casting shadows due to his body and the pillars. The Shadows made the hall all the more majestic, and he felt a sense of uncertainty as the light casted his own shadow far into the hall between the pillars. The Shadows were dragged long down the hall, and Eragon began to have trouble seeing how far away the end of the hall was. He looked closer at the pillars and floors and saw it was covered in a layer of dust. The pillars, upon closer inspection, were marred by hundreds of scratches and several were almost rent in two. _The Shadows are starting to cloud my vision and perception. If I'm not careful, I might miss something that could cost me..._ As he entered, he stopped and observed, walking at a slow pace, looking back and forth between the pillars to see what may be in between, hiding, waiting, his shield producing echoes as it fell on his back over and over again with each step, each echo as loud as a bolt of lightning to Eragon's ears as Eragon continued down the hall in the truly silent world. The walk seemed to take forever.

He constantly felt as if he were being watched, and his hairs were on end, he also felt cold all of a sudden. The ceiling was so far up that it was almost hidden in the shadowy dark, concealing whatever secrets he could glean from the state of the tower. As Eragon walked he felt a presence, he slowed and began to look back and forth. _Something is out there... I don't think I should keep it waiting any longer. Either way I would prefer to find it before it finds me._ Drawing his shield he began to search between the pillars, walking at an incredibly so pace. All of a sudden, there was a thundering crashed. After experiencing silence and such for a long time, Eragon instantly reacted to the noise and looked down, and at his feet was the strange instrument that led him to the world he was in.

He instantly reached for it, but as he did so, a shadow shifted. He immediately froze, but as he did so, a mass, covered in the same fog as outside leaped towards him from behind the pillar at an incredible speed. It released a high pitched scream echoing through out the hall, forcing Eragon to his knees from the force of it. Eragon's heart nearly stopped at the sight, and his body froze in fear. _I can't move!_, he cried out within his mind, but just as one of the limbs of the mist distorted creature reached him, the fiend disintegrated into a cloud of dust that a gale of wind conveniently blew away. Silence filled the empty hall, as Eragon collapsed out of fear, shock, and nausea, the side of his head rested the floor, his eyes wide gasping for air, his heart beating at a pace he had never experienced before, not even with his first encounters with the Raz'ac. _I was too slow to even react._ His thoughts grew into panicked words as he suddenly procured the idea that the demon might not have been alone in the massive tower. His body was still frozen and he kept on thinking about the possibility of another creature, his heart beating to the point of failure out of the raw fear that consumed him until a voice came from the silence of his mind. "Continue Eragon, I apologize, the demon that you saw was something that is created by the mind. I know not if it will happen again, but if it does, the only advice that I can give, is sit down immediately and conquer your mind"

Eragon's mind and heart began to calm as he heard the voice, as it echoed within his ears and mind, taking comfort within the sound and warmth. He slowly got up, and stumbled and fell back down as his legs gave way beneath him. Eragon cursed at the needle like feeling that filled his legs and kept rubbing them lightly to get the blood flowing, cringing at the touch of his fingers and any form of movement. He got up after a minute or two and struggled along as the pin like sensation continued however with less intensity. Eragon looked towards the end of the hall, and was dismayed to see that it was far. _I swear if another one of those things come out, it will be the end of me! _Eragon continued to walk down the hall at a much faster pace looking to both sides at the same time. If however, at certain points if he thought he saw a shadow shift, he would break out into a sprint.

As Eragon neared the end of the hall, the hall began to brighten, and the light that came from the entrance behind him faded. Before him was a growing light, though from what he didn't know. As he began to run for it, he suddenly stopped as he realized what he must do. Looking in front of him, was an area completely shrouded in shadow and darkness. The light from the entrance had faded into the darkness, and the light from the unseen source did not reach this far. Eragon's heart began to quicken as the fear and doubt began to claw at his mind.

Then he heard it. The immense mind killing scream that came from the demon he encountered, except this time it came from behind. Immediately his mind was made and before he could have second thoughts he was already sprinting through the darkness and beyond. He discovered a circular room ahead of him. Within the middle, was a staircase that seemed to lead to the top of the tower. As Eragon looked up, he felt small as he realized the tower itself was taller then the hall by hundreds of feet. The staircase rose high above him, in a spiral fashion, with the staircase going straight until it reached a wall, then turning, and going straight, unlike the curved circular stair cases he was used to seeing, so that as the stair went up, it created a square opening that led upward rather than an oval or circular one. There were also many sub-stairs leading to different doors as it went up. As he started walking towards it, he noted that the staircase was based on a lowered area compared to the rest of the area around it.

_About one foot lower from the floor level and the ground outside. From what I can tell of this world, details are everything, and things are not always what they seem._

As Eragon thought to himself he began to walk up the staircase. It came to the point where he needed to rest, though his elven body possessed much stamina. _This tower is huge, I must already be several hundred feet above the ground, and yet I still have much more to go._

As he began walking up again, the voice returned. "You will find that in this world, and soon in Alagaesia, you will be able to accomplish massive feats that none would believe possible. Even now you have been imbued with a strength that even the elves would envy. But enough talk, you have much more to go, and I'm sure you would like to see how much more strength you have actually been given." As Eragon pondered upon those words, he wondered how it would help him. Then he wondered if it might be an acrobatic sense that would get him to the top.

_There must be an unseen way meant to get to the top, though I cannot see it now. It MUST be there._ He looked at the stairs themselves and noticed nothing unusual. He walked around and looked at the bottom of the stairs above him, and once again, noticed nothing. Yet, as he looked over the edge of the stairs, he noticed that there was a handle. He gripped it as he reached over, and pulled. Nothing happened.

_Whatever the mystery is, these handles are a part of it, I'm sure!._ Then, an idea came upon him that he hadn't thought of before. An idea that without his supposed "great strength" would have been inconceivable. He leaned over the edge of the stairs and looked up. There were more handles on the sides of the stairs as the stairs went up. The idea that came upon him was daring, but extremely frightening. He wondered whether he truly had the courage and audacity to attempt it.

_If what I believe is correct, then I would grip these handles, and jump, UP! I would have to jump high enough so that my elevation is the same as the next handle, and far enough so that I can actually reach the handle. If what I believe is correct, then this is the right way to accomplish this task._ Eragon took several steps backwards, and readied himself.

He stayed there for at least a minute, preparing himself, trying to stop the violent tremors that racked his body. _I'm already several hundred feet up. I still have so much more to go, but if I miss the handle and fall, I will without a doubt fall to my death._ His hands were slick with sweat, as he looked over the edge once more. _I must do this if I want to return to Saphira and the Varden. _He walked over to the very edge of the staircase, the opposite end that is, ran towards the other side and jumped.

The handle approached at a frightening pace. He grabbed it as his body hit the side of the stairs, and felt the shock go through his body with a numbing affect so frightening, that he nearly fell off. His hands were white with the sheer strength applied by his fingers to hold on to the handle. After about a minute he began to calm down.

_I made it! Though I should probably find a way to stop myself from hitting the side of the stairs, else I risk breaking a rib or two... or more._

While holding onto the handle, he placed his legs on the side of the stairs and pushed off, while twisting in midair so that he now faced the next handle. He placed his feet in front of him, and bent his legs as he hit the side of the stairs, while grabbing the handle. In this manner, he continued to proceed to the top of the tower where the unknown voice was to be found.

**Author's Note **

**Entertained? How 'bout hitting that review button?  
**


	4. Part 1: Chapter V

**Author's Note**

**Well, I'm pretty pissed while writing this, because I wrote the fifth chapter several days ago and put it on my USB Flash Drive. Unfortunately I am unable to locate it and it's even worse. I wasn't half done, the fifth chapter was COMPLETE and I can't remember every single part because it's been several days now, and I don't exactly have the best memory. Keep in mind that as your reading this, I'm taking a lot of time and effort in order to re-present all the things that was meant to be presented, and is why this took so long to update. Copyright stuff is on the first story, and if you're too lazy to look at it, well that's your problem. And I shall now continue.**

As Eragon sat on the steps of the tower, he wondered who the mysterious person was. He continually stretched his minds to its

limits to attempt to find him but failed. As he looked up once more, he noted that he could actually see the top of the tower. As he ran

across the step that he was on and leaped forward, he noted that though he had been moving up in this manner for much time now, he

felt no traces of fatigue or anything that he once would have felt before his "transformation" into new strength and power.

Eragon leaped up and landed on the railing around the top floor with a dull thud, then dropping to the floor silently. He nearly jumped when the voice came back.

"_Quite extraordinary", _Said the voice._ "I have never heard of a mortal being able to climb this tower with that amount of time given. _

_Most have taken several days to reach the top. This realm shouldn't be affecting your body at this pace, though it only contributes to the _

_evidence that you are indeed the one to restore balance."_

Eragon wondered at what he should say or rather what the voice meant, he realized that instead of simply talking to the voice, he should have been doing more, both observing and listening.

"_From what I have heard of this voice, the person was older than he was, but was fairly young. He would have been in his early twenties, however like someone like Oromis, his younger voice betrays the greater knowledge and age behind it." _

As he took note of this, he looked around him. The top floor seemed to be just that. It was square shaped and made up of nothing

but walls. Feeling like a complete fool, Eragon began feeling around, touching the walls and such, hoping that the puzzle to this was

simply a

trigger like a pressing a tile of some sort. As he did so, he began to feel more and more foolish. As he continued, the voice spoke once more.

"_Well, I'm sure you have reached the top by this point, however this is where your progress will be halted for the time being. You will _

_have to wait a bit, normally for a day or two while you practice, but most likely not in your case. While you wait, meditate. Practice _

_stretching out your mind, and feeling the world around you. I'm sure you have already felt the effect of doing so, able to feel the _

_biological world around you. Life as you could see with your own eyes, but what if you could go further than that. What if you can _

_actually feel the physical world, and not just sense the living one. What if you could simply sense these things, such as a rock, or a _

_stream several miles away?" _

The implication that the voice gave completely caught him off guard. _"Feeling the physical world! I've never even considered it. The idea_

_that you could feel the living world and the physical one is unbelievable. You would be able to simply walk into a building and know _

_almost everything inside both living and in-animate!"_

Upon this realization he walked over to a wall and sat down. Clearing his mind, he began to stretch his senses to the limit. He felt no life on the inside

of the tower, however on the outside, it was

different. He felt the mist. Every single particle of the mist that draped the world outside seemed to hold a mind. As he felt them, he

recognized their touch. Some were dwarves, others were human, and others, though hard to notice within the torrents of other minds,

were the elves.

As he meditated, he felt something different. It was as if there were barriers around his mind. It was as if his mind was

in a room and his mind was in the very center of the room. He pushed at it the barriers, and found he could easily pass through it,

though the barriers were still there. He could barely feel them though. It was as if someone had placed a piece of cloth over his mind.

One that could only be seen through faintly, though the minds of the elves, humans, and dwarves, those that lay outside, he could still

sense clearly. "_These barriers are faint, however the minds of living things and such is still clear to me. So this world hasn't diminished _

_my ability to sense, but it has opened me to something different._

As he felt the barrier, he noticed that in certain places, he could scarcely feel the barrier, where as in other places though faint, he

could clearly feel it's existence. "_I must train faster! These barriers has to be the physical world, however while I become more sentient _

_of these barriers, there must be more to this tower that I can explore physically._" As he thought this he stood and once more, looked

around. _"I wonder if there is a way to feel the specific room that I'm was in,"_ thought Eragon as he felt around with his mind. _"_ _Maybe _

_the barrier's strength is due to the strength of these walls around me!" _Upon this thought, instead of moving through the barriers as he

did before, he began to apply pressure to the barriers, at first with little effort, building up to a force that left him unable to walk and

gasping for air, but to no avail.

"Knocking down a wall would be much easier to do by hand" he exclaimed out loud. _"That man did say that it would take some time _

_before I would have received this next gift, or rather, it would take some time before my gift has fully developed."_ He sighed as he

realized the implications. As he sat there exhausted, he could only wonder what Saphira was doing. _"This world is so different. Thus far, I _

_have climbed a several hundred foot tower, communicated with an unknown person so powerful, that he controls the time, at least in _

_this world, and I have gained a power that even the Riders could not possibly achieve, at least none that I know of. Though all this has _

_happened, I do not feel the effects that I would have from a normal day of work. Though it should be night, I do not even feel remotely _

_tired. It seems as if all of reality has gone wrong." _

As he sat and meditated, slowly regaining his strength, he felt the presence return. He called out with his mind, and waited. At last after about a minute the response came.

"_I see that you have finally developed the power that I expected. You have been here only for a day yet look at what you have gained. _

_The new feeling that you possess will become stronger through time. Though it should have taken several days, you have developed a _

_skill that even your brother Murtagh would envy an-" _

In a loud roar Eragon yelled out _"How do you know my brother! You have become someone that I hold respect for but NO MORE! You _

_speak of things that is known to little, and yet you have given me gifts that many can only dream of! I will no longer play along with _

_these games of yours. Explain this and show yourself, then we shall see if I can accept what you offer."_

There was a still silence, until the voice replied _"You ask for much, however I can perceive your reason. Come then, I wait." _

And with that the voice disappeared. Nearby, a brick from the wall cracked, and fell. Only, it fell inside the wall. Eragon slowly stood,

standing for a minute or so to allow blood circulate back into his numb legs, and strode forward. He tore at the remaining bricks and

made his way into a dark hallway. At the very end of the hallway was a vast room. At the end of the room, was a massive decorated and

adorned archway. The archway gave to the outside world, the mist clearly visible from his position. And standing in the archway with his

back to him, clad in armor under a hooded cloak, was the same man Eragon saw in his vision.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Saphira flew back with Glaedr to the hut, she felt a sudden shock. The connection between her and Eragon, felt as if it no longer

existed. Not as if it had been cut off, but non-existent. _"Glaedr! I think something must have happened to Eragon! I can no longer feel _

_him!" _However, just as she finished saying this, the connection was back. It felt like a warm torrent of water flowing around her mind as

the connection melted the forces that had hidden it. All this happened within an instant however, the mind that she felt was nothing like Eragon's.

**Author's Note**

**Well as you heard from the top note, I didn't exactly enjoy re-writing this specific document, but I did enjoy the revisions and additions to it. I should be able to update a lot sooner after this (hopefully) but I'm not sure. Anyway, I've really thought about the story, and I know what can be the major partition. This story won't have a sequel, it will only be marked by the partition. The first part being Alagaesia's story, and the second being the story I continue where Eragon's entire story will finish. Though I still have to think about the in-between. Ok guys this is really wierd but, for some reason Fan Fic isn't saving the spaces that I'm trying to make. Tried Re-uploading the document and it didn't work. Sorry for how the story appears but, i'll see what I can do to fix it. This is really bugging me by the way.**


	5. Part 1: Chapter VI

Author's Note Author's Note

**Well, I've been looking at some of the other Fan Fics, and from what I can tell, you can't double space anymore. Well anyway on with the story! And for those of you who are reading this, if you honestly have the time to go through all of this, just think of long it might take to just…. write a simple review!**

As the world outside seethed with the full fury of the blinding mist as it catastrophically propelled itself to and fro due to the infuriated wind, Eragon was paralyzed with shock and fear as he stared at the elf before him. The elf was taller than him, by at least a good 5 inches. Even with his back turned he appeared to be menacing. As the elf turned to face him, he took note of several things. His cloak was brown, The hood that covered his head left his eyes in the shadows, though a bit of his hair was still noticeable, as it draped down towards his forehead.

There were streaks in his hair, silver ones, where as the rest was mainly black. His pupils appeared to be dark at first glance, but as he looked closer, he took note that in actuality it was silver, that literally appeared to shift and alter itself as if it was mercury. Though his cloak covered his back it reached to just about his ankles. From the front he saw that the cloak covered the top of his torso, but spread apart from there, revealing armored plates, made of a chrome unknown black material. The armor was a polished platinum color. The armor was so smooth, but instead of reflecting light, it was as if there was nothing there at all. It was like looking into empty space. On the edges of the plates were black decorations.

He saw that the armor covered his entire body except for the head, though he doubted whether even the fastest and strongest elf could defeat him in combat. The elf's body was held straight, yet at the same time his posture was held in a way so that he could be ready for anything. It was well balanced, and he knew that even if he could be as fast as him, the man would out maneuver him within seconds.

He strode forward and as he took his steps, what Eragon had took to be some kind of addition to his armor turned out to be a weapon, a weapon that combined it self to be a dagger and sword. It possessed the length that was too long for a dagger, but too short for a sword. Its edge was sharpened unbelievably so that it was extremely hard to see the actual edge. Eragon was certain that even with his dwarven armor, he would easily be cleaved in half with a single swing by the blade.

As he came within a meter of him, he said, "You have taken very little time in getting here. Yet time is no longer an issue for us Eragon Shadeslayer. The word time in this world will be used as an instrument to express your sense of physical time in accordance to your body and how it progressively increases in strength and power.. However time has no hold here.

I do, your training will consist of what the Riders taught as well as the greater knowledge that only the greatest in history know of. The world that you knew as Alagaesia will be viewed from a completely different perspective. Nothing in this world changes because time cannot change unless I will it to. Your body will change; you will become more powerful and stronger over time, as well as your knowledge, which will increase greatly. Within a second's worth of time in Alagaesia, you will become more powerful than Murtagh or even Vrael. What has been gifted upon you is something that even Galbatorix would destroy for. Do you accept?"

As he ended he crossed his arms, and drew himself upright. Eragon thought for several seconds on the matter. "Under normal circumstances I would without a doubt question your offer, however what I have gained thus far is testimony to your offer." Eragon took in a breath as if to ready himself for his proclamation. "I accept, I feel that I have much to learn from you, and if what you say is true, I won't have to worry about how long it could take. I have nothing to lose then."

The man turned away from him and walked forward. He walked through the massive archway and Eragon followed. As he did so he noticed that unlike the mist areas in the other section of the world, this portion was swarming with darkness. "All that I must teach would normally take roughly 900 to 1000 years. Your body would progress only as fast as you wish it to be, and can stop its growth and aging process at its most powerful stage. However, I do understand that you have much to do. Therefore, the way that I shall accomplish this is the same way that Oromis did. We shall train non-stop in both language, mind, and physical concepts in every manner of your life. All this should take between 100 and 130 years."

Confused, Eragon replied, "I understand, however what more language must I learn?" The elf smiled at him, and said "You will have to finish your knowledge of the ancient language. And… you must learn the tongue of the Gray Folk."

As Eragon walked along his side, the surprise clearly showed on his face when the elf mentioned the Grey Folk and their language. Seeing the dumbfounded look on his face the man said

"I understand your surprise, as the tongue of the Grey Folk was not a common thing even when I once lived in Alagaesia.

Your training will be divided into 5 segments. One is training the mind and mastering the changes within it. You shall also learn how to project thoughts into other worlds as well as dreams. That will take 15 years.

Next we will train your balance, physical body, and acrobatics. We will also train your hand to hand combat, basically what you should do if you are disarmed, though by the time I'm done with you, the chances of someone disarming you would be like throwing a rock a toothpick at your dragon and attempting to kill it by that, although once again by the time I'm done with you, even that will seem possible. That shall take about 20 years.

Next we shall cover knowledge of the ancient language, in all its complexity. You will learn many new words; you will also learn spells that you never thought would be possible. This shall consume 15 years.

After that you will be taught the Grey language. The Grey Language is something that you will use to manipulate the Ancient Language and even create words of your own. This is a power that you must use with absolute caution and is something that will take much longer than you might expect. It is the very power from which the Ancient Language was born and might possibly be something that Galbatorix doesn't know. This will take another 20 years. Through out all of this training, you will also gain knowledge and will also change how you view Alagaesia with your newly found powers.

Lastly you will experience Malthinaejodr. It is something that you cannot just control. It is something that you can only learn from pure discipline. It is not something that you can understand; you can only immerse yourself within to understand. Then when the time comes, we must see if Malthinaejodr will accept you. If it does, there may be hope yet for you to defeat Galbatorix. You will spend the last 60 years of your training with Malthinaejodr and you will also practice mastering it and incorporating Malthinaejodr with your mind, your physical training, the ancient language, and they Grey language.

Eragon stared at the man, as he took all of this. He felt all the eagerness of learning and growing more powerful coming back to him again just as he had when he first saw Oromis. "Eragon, your current physical condition is the condition you will be placed under in terms of energy. You will not have to sleep once in the next 130 years. Prepare yourself, I will return within an hour. The training will begin."

Eragon smiled at the elf's style of learning. Not a single moment wasted. As he sat down against a wall, the thought came to him and called out "What may I call you by the way, you know my name but I obviously don't know yours."

The man turned to face him with a smile on his face and the most clear gleam in his eyes that he had ever seen in an elf. "You may call me master if you are used to such a thing with Oromis, however you may name me by my true name.

"You can call me Eragon."

**Author's Note**

**Well nothing to say here, except yes, it is THE Eragon. The ancient one etc. etc. anyway not much to say except hope I update soon. **


	6. Part 1 Chapter VII

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Author's Note

**Yeah... I've been thinking of the story line and stuff, and there probably will be a pre-story thing that takes place before the whole story line seen here as well as the sequel to this. Nothing more to say except look to the first page for copyright stuff… anyway, that's all for now.**

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**Ch7. Ancient Revealing**

Weakness, although Eragon didn't think he could apply such a word to himself, he did so now. Before, training with Oromis to spread his mind was one thing, but this was something completely different. In this case, while feeling the physical world and staying aware of the living was entirely possible, the concept he was trying to master was impossible! He was basically forcing himself to make himself stronger. He exerted enormous amounts of strengths on all kinds of physical barriers.

He succeeded many times, however this was one of those difficult ones where his older counterpart didn't seem to have the slightest bit of sympathy for his poor and weary mind. Finally, when it came to the point where Eragon was about to collapse from the effort, the barrier faded. "Enough!" said the older Eragon. "You have made much progress, however I must admit it is surprising that it has been nearly 3 years since you have arrived." Eragon replied "Hah! And only about another 127 more to go." As the elf walked through archway he sat down, meditating. Eragon sat down behind him several yards away. Eragon sat there thinking upon the past several years and for an odd reason, the prophecy of the werecat came to his mind

He decided he should ask about the matter later. "Ebrithil how much more must I learn in training my mind?" The older Eragon stayed silent, looking towards the twilight world outside. He replied with a sigh. "Eragon, for the past 3 years you have been working on one thing. That is, increasing the strength of your perception of the physical world. The reason why we do this, is so that you may be able to move, stop, or attack a variety of things on the moment without thinking so that it becomes a rather second hand nature just as if you were physically swinging your sword at an enemy.

With this skill you can not only attack with your sword but with your mind within the physical plane. For example if you were fighting the Raz'ac, and they were to disarm you – though mind you I would beat you about if you somehow managed that with MY training – it would be a simple matter of out maneuvering them to the point where you can lift your sword at will and summon it to you without them interfering. In the same manner, if you were to be using a bow in a certain situation, and something were to happen which would prevent you from using your bow, then you would be able to move the arrows yourself and use them without the help of your bow, though using them properly would take a lot of practice for reasons I will explain later. That is what your goal is to be for the next 2 years. For the past 3 years we have focused on pure strength, now we will be able to work on using the technique."

Eragon looked to himself and imagined the things he would be able to do with a power such as that. He thought to himself and only then did he truly realize the raw power, strength, and intelligence he was receiving. He still could scarcely believe that he was actually learning from the original Eragon. He thought upon the matter a bit more, and returned his attention to his master. "Master, I was once given some advice by a certain werecat by the name of Solembum." His master looked at him with delight at the sound of the name. "I once knew that werecat; though it has been many years since I have seen him, I'm sure he is doing well. Anyway as for the advice… what exactly did he say?" Eragon repeated the advice, yet as soon as his older self heard the name Kuthian, he appeared troubled and disturbed.

"Eragon… do you know who the Kuthians were? I didn't think so… The house of Kuthian was a powerful family, not exactly like a father, mother or children, or anything like that but a family consisting of several families of the same people. Or rather they seemed to be a race of their own with their skills and power. Well, the Kuthian's were a group of assassins. They were the greatest in the art of stealth, and killing. They consisted of mainly elves, though some humans could be accepted if they showed loyalty to the Kuthian elves or to if a member of the Kuthians allowed them to join. The Kuthians were the most feared people in the land of Alagaesia. Their wrath was more feared than the wrath of the Dragons and Riders. They served both the human royal family and the elven royal family, although the Kuthians were their own separate group. Neither the elves or humans controlled them; The Kuthian's were in a sense a power greater than both elves and humans because they controlled much of politics of both nations and such with their stealth. They were able to bend both races of elves and men to their will simply because of how powerful they were, and because they always remained hidden.

"No more than two members of the Kuthian's traveled together as security so that even if one member was to get him or herself into trouble there would always be one more to help. Also by splitting up in this manner, they prevented their identities from being discovered as members of Kuthian, and thus completely eradicating the Kuthian's were nigh impossible, because even if you managed to kill a set of two, which in itself would be considered the strength only a demigod could possess, you would still have not gotten anywhere with your main goal, and if you did manage to kill member, you would have overall signed your own death sentence. The Kuthian house was not known for its mercy. The Kuthian house created the very world you see today, civilization as you can see it. They established the system of ruling, and methods that create the very society you live in. There was once a time when the Kuthian were the most revered and admired simply because the world that they had created and were maintaining was so peaceful. It was not under the Riders that Alagaesia met its golden years, but under the stealth, and will of the Kuthians. If they still remained today, they would have never allowed Galbatorix to do what he did. Though Galbatorix may have established the current system of government, all government is based on the ideas and concepts of the Kuthians. Their power was ultimate and absolute."

Eragon sat there in silence wondering and pondering upon the given story. _The idea that one house and family could bend the world and it's powers simply to their ideas and whims! Unthinkable!_ "Master, if this is so, why is it that Galbatorix is able to do what he does? Why is it that he is ruling in a way that obviously would go against the ideas of the Kuthian's? If they did bring Alagaesia to its Golden Age, than they should have done something to prevent the fall of the Riders, however one thing that I have a question of is simply this. Why is it that I have never heard of them before? It seems highly unlikely that such a great power could have remained such a secret from all! In all the time I have opposed Galbatorix I have never heard of Kuthian House and what they actually were until now. The most I have ever heard of it was when Solembum mentioned it."

The old elf looked at Eragon with mild amusement, but spoke with an ominous tone, absolutely firm, along with perhaps what might have been fear. "Eragon you greatly misunderstand. The reason why you never heard of it is because we are the only 2 who know of it, perhaps Galbatorix, but nevertheless we are the only beings. Elves might have heard of the name, but no one ever knew of the actual house and their power. Alagaesia knew of the fact that a force, and group more powerful than they could possibly imagined existed, that it controlled their very world, and they respected it. It was only before the Golden Age that they feared the Kuthian House, however the Kuthians were so skilled in stealth and were determined to stay invisible that NO ONE save for themselves truly understood them. They were the masters of stealth and they truly were the only ones who could have kept Alagaesia and it's Empire from falling into ruin."

"But master, how is it that the Kuthian's could have maintained such deception? I understand how they could have kept it secret from the Elves and Humans, obviously through strict rules to the Kuthians, but deceiving the Riders? I mean surely the Rider's were able to capture at least one member of the Kuthian House. And if they did, I am very sure that at least one of them could have been powerful enough to have broken into the mind of a Kuthian." The elf looked at him thoughtfully, and replied "Eragon what you ask about is not something I am able to answer right now. The knowledge is too much for you to grasp. You have been given much to think about anyway. In any case, I will explain more come tomorrow. There is something that you should be aware of. The story of the Kuthians and their leader and how they came to power. This is a story that is known to only me, of that I can guarantee you. The story is of the greatest power in the history of Alagaesia, and no one in all that history has been allowed to hear it. You should be proud that you have been deemed worthy of such a thing. I will tell you the tale tomorrow.

As Eragon looked at his now meditating mentor, he bubbled with excitement. _I wonder if the power I currently am gaining could match the power of a Kuthian._ With that thought Eragon went to the base of the archway and sat down extending one leg, bending the other. As he did so he fell into a trance like state where he regained his strength for the next day… which in this case was only several hours away.

**Author's Note**

Well sorry for the long time without an update. Well after this chapter I will be writing the pre-story thing. So yeah... It will be long... yeah... anyway start reviewing


	7. Prequel: Chapter I

**Author's Note**

**Would have written this earlier, but lost my flash drive with the original on it. And this time I'm not getting it back (New York Buses sigh) Anyway credits to Paolini for Eragon etc. Oh yeah my Fan Fics might be getting longer each time now. Oh yeah, your going to start seeing the number system I described a couple of chapters ago, where I have a number in a set of parentheses and a corresponding explanation at the bottom of the story.**

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**Eragon sat crossed legged, his eyes closed while continuing his training. He was anxious to hear the story of the Kuthians. As his ears heard just the faint whisper of a sound, quieter than a pin hitting the ground, he looked up to see his master sitting in front of him. "Eragon, what I am about to tell you will not have complete significance to you except at the very conclusion of this legend. So for one thing make yourself comfortable, and the other, is prepare to know yourself." The younger Eragon looked blank, the older one knew that Eragon was taking in all the implications of what he said, the many diverse meanings, and the ones that were most likely. "Alright then, our story began long ago, in a city by the crater of what is now Tudösten Lake. Oromis' home area if you will (1) Thousands of years ago, before the Age of the Riders. The city where it all began:

He looked silently below towards the conversing guards, with the dark storm clouds above. The air was cool, a relieving respite from the warm, and humid air Shaddarra experienced earlier. Shaddarra was not exactly your average boy. He did not know who his parents were. He and his older brother were raised by a family in the city who lived close to the outer courts of the palace. Just about the only place with a reasonable amount of technological advancement. The streets were paved in stone, and the walls were of stone as well. The fortress was one of 2 and the fortresses were the only buildings in the city that were paved. All surrounding areas had only dirt roads. The family was not a rich family, however they were the kind who prided themselves in their pitiful existence and considered them better than most around them. Shaddarra and his brother were told that they were found at the door step of the house they now called home, cold and very alone on a very stormy night much like this one. They both despised the world that they were forced to live in, and tonight, they were to make their escape. Today they would get what they needed and flee the city to find their own destiny.

He waited some more and began filing his knife silently. Then what he waited for had finally transpired. It began to rain. At first it was barely a drizzle. Then it transformed itself into a downpour that the guards below cursed their posts for. Shaddarra felt relieved because the downpour would make his aim much easier. Shaddarra, without the slightest bit of noise leaped from the roof and landed silently on the roof that was just 2 meters above the guard's heads. "The only thing that I should worry about now would be lightning." Shaddarra muttered. Out of his pocket he drew a pebble, about half the length of his thumb, and just as wide. Without losing his balance he flung it at a tin can he placed on a roof top about 9 meters from his original hiding place. The can reverberated loudly as the pebble met its mark, and made a loud clang as it hit the stone paved street below. As the guards below looked up from their conversations, hands placed on the hilts of their swords, they started walking forward.

Shaddarra had hired a poor beggar to sit by the tin can. He paid more than he should have, but the man looked so pitiful, that for a person like Shaddarra, he couldn't help but try and be generous to the misfortunate man. He knew that because of his kindness however, the old man wouldn't fail him. He heard the guards conversing with the old man, and leaped down from the roof while he still had the chance grabbing a flag pole and swinging over a stack of boxes just to the right of the door.

His caution was rewarded as two more guards walked out of the door at that exact moment. He crouched behind the boxes and waited for them to report to the Captain. His timing couldn't have been better. By choosing to enter at the changing of the guards, the first set of guards would be able to take their time conversing with the old man, because their shift was over. Because their shift was over, the new guards would take no alarm that the first set of guards were missing from their posts and would have just assumed that they had left a bit early. All guards did so and they were no exception. Then, when they verified that the first set of guards had left, they would sign in at the their post and return giving Shaddarra more than enough time to sneak into the door, and into the fortress.

The new guards walked away, their iron boots tramping loudly as they signified the guards leaving. Shaddarra quickly ran around the boxes to the door, and picked the lock. Within seconds he was in and priding himself at his own cunning and stealth. Shaddarra had entered at the top of a stairwell; down one flight of stairs was a torch, leaving the top portion of the stairway dark, receiving light only from the small barred window in the door. Above him were wooden beams. They smelled of a fresh pine scent, which Shaddarra knew that it meant the beams were new. "Perfect, these will hold all the spoils just nicely." said Shaddarra.

Hearing Shaddarra talk was a rare thing, for he rarely spoke at all, and when he did, it was as if you were listening to the shadows themselves. He was a very quite person, and he from appearance, could clearly be discerned as not human. He had all the quickness of an elf, yet instead of his movements being fluid such as the elves, they were extremely sharp, very precise. Unlike the elves who trained hard to achieve balance, Shaddarra was born with a natural affinity to balance. He was a very well balanced person from a young age and was ambidextrous, and could only be bested by some of the oldest and most well balanced elves. He was very handsome and had seemed to be hybrid between elf and human though more elf, but he somehow knew that whatever he was, it did not consist of humans or elves, and yet at the same time, you would never notice him in a crowd. These were attributes to both him and his brother. No one had seen the elves for a long time, many people in this time were afraid of the elves, for they seemed completely alien to humans. And for this reason, they felt a general discomfort when Shaddarra and his older brother Sharquin happened to be around.

And yet, it was because of this uniqueness that caused Shaddarra to become so stealthy. He blended easily with people and all of society and could blend even better in the shadows. He was always thinking two to three steps ahead, but even then he was always three to four steps behind his brother. His brother was a feared man in the city. Some considered him to be extremely dangerous because of how quickly he though ahead of others and his abilities. His brother was a man of ambition, and was something of a prodigy at his age. He was a dangerous foe, and the strongest ally one could have. The secret behind his success was a logic that a dragon would envy. He also looked like an older version of Shaddarra. The brothers shared a strong bond, a bond only brothers could share tempered by social isolation, and hardships. Shaddarra was 15 and was nearing manhood. His older brother was 19 and possessed a character much more silent than Shaddarra, though Shaddarra believed that to be because of age.

Anyway, as Shaddarra peered down the stair case, he listened intently for any patrols. When he was assured he slowly descended the stair case, careful not to step on any rocks or pebbles for it was a stone paved stairwell and there were many bits that had broken off. While he did so, he dragged along a string that gradually wound up the entire stair way. Shaddarra reached the bottom of the staircase and took note of the hallway ahead of him. There was only one guard and he was patrolling back and forth along the hallway. Shaddarra walked lightly to the edge of the hallway, hiding behind the corner. When the guard was very close to him, and turned around to walk back to the other end of the hallway, Shaddarra began to stalk him.

He moved swiftly and silently and when he was close enough he pulled out a rock and struck the man on the back of the head slightly to the top, fairly hard. The man collapsed and Shaddarra caught him as he fell. Shaddarra placed one leg on the wall to his left and another on the one to his right, and climbed up about two feet. He then pried a well sized rock from the ceiling and placed it by the man's foot so as to give the appearance that the rock fell and hit his head, and that he fell forward as a result. Shaddarra took care to take with him, the guard's knife. It wasn't exactly in pristine condition, but it would well enough serve the cause.

Shaddarra sprinted down the hallway barely making a sound, ducking behind pillars as the patrols made their rounds. He was close to the supply rooms now, the security had moderately increased, but nothing that he couldn't handle. As he continued down the halls, he noticed that the walls were becoming more and more adorned. "I'm probably getting to the areas more reserved for nobles." thought Shaddarra. He wound around the corner one last time and alas! He could see the supply room door ahead of him, guarded by another set of guards. Shaddarra didn't know how to handle this situation; the guards were armed fairly well, were combat veterans, and showed no signs of falling asleep or dozing off, and though they didn't see him, they were looking in his direction, meaning he couldn't try to sneak up to them. His heart sank as he looked on, as he wondered if all his work to get here had been in vain. But, just as he was about to give up and walk away, he heard a familiar sound. It was like a silk cloth being dropped onto the ground again, and again, noticeable only to Shaddarra's enhanced hearing and still extremely soft at that level.

He heard thump, and then a man yelled, and yet another thump. He turned with a sly look on his face to face his older brother. At 15 Shaddarra was about 5 feet and 7 inches tall, which wasn't that bad for someone his age, and yet his brother at 19 was still an entire head taller. Sharquin walked up to Shaddarra and ruffled his hair. "You did well to get this far; I doubt I could have done too much better!" Shaddarra, annoyed moved his head away from Sharquin's hand. "Well it's a good thing you came in just then Sharquin, otherwise I probably would have left."

Sharquin wordlessly acknowledged Shaddarra, something Shaddarra was used to, and strode over to the door. He touched the door knob, and with his back turned to Shaddarra, did something that Shaddarra couldn't see due to Sharquin's positioning. The door opened silently revealing only a dark room which possessed a depth that Shaddarra's enhanced vision still could not entirely perceive. As he and Sharquin walked into the room, Sharquin drew a torch and lit it, before them lay an abundance of weapons and money. The majority of the money was nickel, although if they looked carefully enough, they could find silver and if they were lucky, gold.

"Sharquin, I deduce that this will be more than enough for our expedition." Sharquin grinned, responding "That it will brother, now then pack up, before they notice the unconscious guards outside." Shaddarra tossed the guard's knife he pilfered, and found a better knife to replace it. As he looked around he found a good sword, too short to be a long sword, and too long to be a short sword, the perfect length. He belted the sheath, and kept the sword drawn under his cloak, in case someone walked into the room at that moment. He pulled out his bag and bagged all the silver and gold coins he and Sharquin could find. After they decided that they found all that they could, they began taking the nickel ones by the masses. Fairly soon he managed to collect about three bags full. One held by him, the other two held by Sharquin. They put out the torch, stepping into the now cool hallway silently. Shaddarra led Sharquin back to the stairway where he entered stopping at the door which led to it. They peered into the small window in the door to find the first guard awake again joined by at least two others.

"Shaddarra," whispered Sharquin, "I hope you have a way to distract them, because I'm not totally sure how to handle this situation short of taking the guards' armor, and disguising ourselves, but I don't want to risk them seeing our height or hearing our voices." Shaddarra looked to himself pleased that he for once thought ahead on his part of the heist. "Sharquin, I did for your information and for once managed to think ahead on my part without you needing to tell me." Normally an average older brother would have taken this in an annoyed manner, but not Sharquin. Sharquin, genuinely pleased responded "Then good luck, you can handle this one on your own." Sharquin took a step back allowing Shaddarra forward. Shaddarra sheathed his drawn sword, and pulled out a small vial filled with oil and poured them onto the door hinges.

Shaddarra said a silent prayer and began to open the door. "Success!" he thought to himself as the door opened without a sound. He found the string that he first wound down the staircase and he pulled. About 3 staircases above him a rock attached to the string fell halfway and deafeningly clattered on the stone staircase. Shaddarra flinched as he preferred Silence over sound any day. The silence returned and the guards were stiff, with either fear or training. Shaddarra took advantage of this and leaped silently behind the first guard and struck the him, where as Sharquin was a flash and a blur jabbing at the nerves of the guards immediately knocking them out, and caught them as they fell.

With pride, the brothers sprinted up the stairs and reached the top of the stairs tired, but filled with anticipation and exhilaration as they knew that they had all that they needed to escape the pitiful world that they lived and find out who they truly were.

Shaddarra pointed upward and made a hook with his hand. Sharquin immediately understood what he meant and slung the two bags onto the new pine scented wooden beams above him. They opened the door outside and behind the two guards who stood there climbed the flag pole, to the roof above and sprinted away into the distance as the icy rain and shadows masked their escape. Their destiny was nigh upon them.

**Author's Note**

**Well then, what do you think? I actually want to get reviews this time, so yeah, my Fan Fics will actually be succinct like this one, I think I rushed the other ones, sorry again that this took so long to post, but you saw the first A.N. and seeing this chapter, you can see why it took so long to re-write. This is the prequel to Eragon that I mentioned I would write, and will explain A LOT of the story elements that you see in Eragon. So hoping to get more reviews, Twilight out. **

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1) Tudosten Lake is where Oromis said that he was from in Eldest.


	8. Prequel: Chapter II

**Author's Note**

**Well, next part of the prequel, more updates coming up so yeah. We won't be hearing Eragon's story until this part is done (meaning the prequel) so just kick back and listen to the story. Credits to Paolini for writing Eragon etc. I'm actually really excited, I've really been starting to think about the story line, and I've gotten pretty deep. It's just pretty exciting when your thinking about the story and even when you're not thinking about the story itself you just come up with the connections and everything seems to come together. It's going to be long, and I can't wait for its end. Anyway, more of my numbered explanations throughout the story, and they will contain pretty important information key to the story as well as key points that will allow you to visualize the way that I see the story. Also this chapter wasn't a very long one in the sense of story progression, however it was meant to give you a better idea of the two brothers.**

Shaddarra and Sharquin lightly jogged along the roof tops. Leaping from one to another, Sharquin was always able to jump farther and longer than Shaddarra, he was more acrobatic. However because Shaddarra wasn't as strong as Sharquin, he was more accustomed to the surroundings and the building itself. Although Sharquin never really relied on such things, his acrobatics were better than Shaddarra's, though because he was stronger and thus able to jump farther he rarely needed to show it. Shaddarra on the other hand had amazing acrobatics and Sharquin knew that Shaddarra's would easily match and surpass his own someday simply because he wasn't as strong as Sharquin and relied on it more.

As they ran towards the end of yet another building it broke off and it was connected to the next by horizontal beams, revealing a wide and large courtyard below, spacious in actuality, yet peaceful, and filled with plants and life providing an extremely relaxing feeling as you just sat under the trees and looked upward toward the open sky above. They were home; Sharquin jumped from one beam to the next lightly jumping for him, however Shaddarra unaccustomed to such thin beams, instead jumped down and swung from beam to beam, using his momentum to swing on one beam and curve his back high enough during the jump to skip a beam and grab the next, however to conserve energy he also swung from beam to beam. **(1)**

By the time he made it to the other building Sharquin was waiting for him. He was standing on a door. Shaddarra looked around and in the excitement of their flight from the fortress, he almost forgot their pace and how far they got. They were home. He didn't even realize that they had traversed through their own courtyard; only the thrill of using his acrobatic skills, and showing Sharquin that he was truly able to be depended on in almost all situations mattered to him in those ephemeral moments. Sharquin grasped the old, grimy, brass door handle and pulled. The door soundlessly swung towards them, as Shaddarra expected it to, and Sharquin laid it onto the roof top. Sharquin instantly crouched down and scanned the surrounding rooftops with his advanced eyes, while Shaddarra noiselessly slid down into the door frame.

Sharquin looked around one last time, searching if anyone followed them, though he doubted that anyone could have kept up with them. He saw a faint shimmer in the distance by an open chimney, barely noticeable in the driving smoke pouring from the chimney. When Sharquin decided that it was caused by the heat from the chimney, he climbed into the opening in the roof and closed the door above him. Shaddarra was already changed into his normal clothes. Shaddarra looked at him questioningly, and Sharquin responded by shaking his head with a no. Shaddarra exhaled with an audible sigh of relieve, and Sharquin sat down on the wooden staircase. Sharquin knew exactly what he felt, and he too felt the adrenaline of the flight.

In all such flights no matter what the situation or circumstances, they maintained silence. They only broke it if it was absolutely necessary, or if they managed to get into an absolute safe point. Shaddarra was the first to break the silence, and as usual broke it not for a mere question but for reassurance that his logic was in tune with his brother's. "Sharquin, is the reason we are staying for some more time that we may gain supplies and throw suspicion off of us?" _He truly is growing up. Though he isn't as far ahead in his thinking, his understanding of my perspective and observations are nearing flawlessness; seems like only yesterday I was only teaching him to think logically. Now he is able to think superior than anyone else in this city, save for me._

"Yes Shaddarra, you are right, once again. We must first gain some more supplies such as food. The reason why I took more money than we actually needed was so that we can buy the supplies. The day after tomorrow, we will go to the Dark Shade to buy the things we need. However, we will have to use our "night clothes" later on." **(2) **Shaddarra loved to use his "night clothes". As its name, they only used it as night where they would be enabled to remain completely unseen and unrecognized. During the morning where they could be more easily seen, they wore more standard disguises. After Shaddarra and Sharquin changed into their normal clothes, they climbed into bed after their somnolent night.

They slept for as much as they could until Sharquin heard noises in the floors below. He smiled as he expected this. A louder bang as something below was knocked over, woke up Shaddarra. "Another thing that he has grown in," Sharquin chuckled to himself. "Before, he could sleep through a storm, now he is more attuned, though once again not as well as me." Moments later the door at the foot of the stairs just outside their room opened. With it, light spilled in from up the stairs and into their half open doorway. "Boys get down here!" Shaddarra looked over and smiled slyly at his older brother and instantly Sharquin knew that he understood what was going on.

Shaddarra and Sharquin waited another moment while their "father" called once again, and with a flawless face they walked out of their room and down the stairs appearing sleepy eyed and such, as they walked into the room below. The entire family was assembled before them, Shaddarra and Sharquin looked at the 3 guards that stood at the door and wordlessly joined their family. They stood silently, watching the guards until one of the guards began speaking.

"The reason we have called you from your sleep, is because of a break in of the Baradon Fortress. Now, we have no proof that you were the ones, however because your home is reasonably close to the fortress therefore you have been placed under suspicion."

Salvarin, the "father" went pale when he heard this, and his eyes glanced at Shaddarra and Sharquin. "We have no worry that it might be one of you, for you have always been in good favor of the guards and our Lord, Salvarin. However, we have our orders, and so, we shall search." Sharquin laughed to himself, as he knew that they were safe. The door that led to the attic, which led to the roof was hidden. There was a hidden trap door **under** the beds, and that trapdoor led to a small hallway which further led to a ladder which led to the attic. In order to go up, you had to go down first, and Sharquin was first relying on the fact that the guards wouldn't suspect an attic, and if they did, a separate staircase partially hidden led to another attic, where Sharquin made sure items of little to no interest were placed. And even if they did find the trapdoor, they could not open it unless they performed a series of actions.

They would first have to stamp their foot 3 times about five paces left from the south east corner of the room that was by the bookshelf. Below, a gear would be lowered by each stamp into the proper position. At the same time, you would have to hit the wall at a marked piece of wood - obviously faintly marked - in order to smack a weight off of its position on a shelf inside the wall. If these actions were not done simultaneously, a locking mechanism would come into play on either the gear or the weight depending on which action was not executed and would require you to pull the rope hidden in a gap where the ceiling met the wall.

Meanwhile, after this has been done, another person - who would normally be Shaddarra - would have to tap the nightstand on its corner on its top piece of wood where an oil lamp would have to be removed to provide the energy to start the gear system, tapping at intervals of 2 seconds at the beginning and then 5 after the 3rd gear started rotating at its full speed which would be signified by a faint click and a thud underneath the floor board under a certain position that only Shaddarra was aware about, therefore he had to place his foot in that position in order to feel the thud. This must be done for about 20 seconds, and only then will the trapdoor open. And _even then _their spoils where hidden in the fortress itself, and they could define the attic as their place of sanctuary. The guards would have no conviction that they did the crime. It seemed to be a bit overdone; however Sharquin knew that chances were not something he was willing to take. _We put so much work into this and now we must leave it all._ Sharquin felt a pang of regret as he remembered him and Shaddarra as mere children putting the whole thing together. The memories that came back to him almost brought tears to his eyes, a_lmost._

The guards searched the whole house, and Shaddarra almost smiled when they discovered the false attic, and left it at that. About an hour after searching the house, the guards came back into the main entrance room.

"The search has been inconclusive," said the guard. An audible sigh of relief came from "mother". "We must return to the fortress to relay the report, our Lord will be most pleased Salvarin, that you are innocent." At these words, Salvarin opened the door and gave a slight bow. The guards left and wordlessly Shaddarra and Sharquin returned to their rooms, knowing that they family would discuss and gossip about the incident and who might have done it, however they knew they would never be included.

Shaddarra, still weary from their flight and interrupted sleep, went to bed, as did Sharquin. They would rest for the day and the next day they would go to the Dark Shade – a secret black market for refugees, fugitives, and criminals – and buy their supplies.

Shaddarra slept several minutes later; however Sharquin, quite used to the lack of sleep did not do so for a time, in anticipation of what was ahead. Then he too fell asleep and they slept for another 6 hours and awoke at sun rise during the seventh hour of the day by Shaddarra's keen judgment. The sun was rising and the light gently spilled over the sheets and met Sharquin's face. He soon awakened, and tapped Shaddarra's shoulder.

"Rise, Shaddarra," he whispered, "we have much to do before we can go to the Dark Shade. Go to the 2nd tavern in the 3rd sub-division of the Arboron district. In the corner by the bar, a man will be sitting in the corner, holding a knife with a runic insignia. Discreetly bump the box that he is sitting on and drop this slip, walk into the back room, ignoring the chef who in turn will ignore you, and climb the scaffolding to reach the roof. Then return to our "sanctuary".

Shaddarra wordlessly carried out the task. He then put on a simple disguise, though itching for his "night clothes". He opened the window and climbed out onto the roof, on the east side of the building, disguised, he dropped down into the tall grasses below in a slim alleyway shaded by a tree. He waited for an opening in the side streets and with his head down, he strode out of the alleyway, and unnoticed, he joined the commoner's traffic.

**Author's Note**

**Anyway, was going to keep on going, but when I opened up M. Word, I saw that this was a pretty good place to end it, also considering two thousand something words… anyway, more coming up soon.**

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**1) When Shaddarra is swinging, he first dropped down from the building while grabbing the first bar, he then starts swinging to gain momentum and then he jumps. When he jumps, his legs come up to the next bar and bends his body over that bar just enough to go over it, and by then he grabs the next bar, by doing this he skips a bar and reaches the next one although at other times, he simply swings and jumps from one bar to the next to conserve energy though it is slower.**

**2) By night clothes, I mean a set of clothes that are used in their night expeditions, which is perfect for them as characters. It consists of a first layer of skin tight clothes covered with about a 1/4****th**** of an inch of steel which cover their entire body except for the head, feet, and hands. (2****nd**** layer) On top of that are black clothes that include a pair of pants and a tunic where the front, sides and back reach about their knees, tied around their waist by a gold sash. The tunic is long sleeved and just, under it is the armored clothes, they also wear a hood piece, black, which covers their heads and leaves their faces in the dark. This so far, shows the inner set of clothes; on the outside, they where a simple cloak. On their feet, they have boots which reach about half-way up to their knees, and they wear armored gauntlets on their hands. Outlining the inside clothes on the seams of their clothes is gold threads all along the seams. That with the gold sash, seems pretty cool, and goes well with the black clothing. That should give you a very good idea of what the inner set of clothes look like, and then the simple cloak on top with the much bigger hood to cover the inner one. The cloak is a normal one which goes on the outside of EVERTHING including the hood and such. I'll be giving you closer ideas to its image and the equipment they have as we go along the story. Like I said, the numbered descriptions are very important.**


	9. Prequel: Chapter III

**Author's Note**

**Next chapter, credits to Paolini for Eragon etc.**

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Escape

Shaddarra walked through the streets under the cover of his cloak. He once again felt exposed with the simple disguise and wished he had his "formal" one beneath the cloak instead of a simple set of dirtied clothes obscuring his true social class. He preferred the gold and black colors of his better disguise, with its set of weapons and such over a rock in his pocket at that moment. Sharquin gave him those clothes only a year before and yet he only used it once, though why Sharquin wouldn't let him, Shaddarra did not know. Shaddarra walked with the crowd and matched its pace perfectly. No one gave him an undue amount of attention.

He walked faster as he entered the Arboron district, matching the pace of a person in a hurry to do something. _Well then, almost there, though Sharquin's basic rule of such situations is that you can always be followed and precautions should be taken. _Shaddarra debated with himself on whether the extra trouble was worth it and berated himself for not thinking of it sooner. _By asking myself that question, I act foolishly. If I must ask myself if I am being followed and should take the precaution, then I should take it to be safe. If I question my safety, then why should I doubt that I might be in trouble? _Shaddarra looked around to see what he could use to assist him in the situation. And then he saw him, a boy about his age, about his height and weight, and looked fairly fit.

Shaddarra walked over to the boy and bumped his arm while walking by. When the boy looked up, Shaddarra was almost around the next bend in the street and beckoning with his finger. The boy understanding the nature of the city and what this stranger had in mind, followed surreptitiously giving no reason to believe he was following Shaddarra. Shaddarra walked around another bend and stopped. The boy came several minutes later. "I had to loop around the street a couple of times to make sure." said the boy. _Good, he understands something then, I shouldn't have to worry. _"Well then, I'm trying to get somewhere, however I think I might be being followed. I have an extra change of clothes for me to change in and these." Shaddarra pulled out 2 silver coins, and immediately the boys face became thoughtful. "Alright then I'll do it. Where should I lead them?" Shaddarra thought for a moment, and then replied "I'm not sure if I'm being followed but walk to the Ardarac district and see if you can lose them there."

_With luck they will follow him and this will be a much simpler mission._ Shaddarra looked around and moved further into the alley they located themselves in and changed into the spare clothes. He gave the boy his old clothes and the cloak, while placing a brown cloak instead so that his face would still be hidden. He was sure that with his cloak his face had been hidden from the boy. People had an annoying knack for remembering faces they shouldn't. After the other boy had changed into Shaddarra's clothes, Shaddarra handed him the two silver coins and they wordlessly parted paths. Shaddarra took several back alleys to reach the location and was forced to scale two walls to reach the building which lay on the intersection where his target location was situated. Shaddarra gazed upon the building he was supposed to enter and looked for any alternative means of entering other than the front door. _It's not like I will be stopped by someone now, but I doubt that it would be best for people to see me walk in. It would be best to leave no witnesses. _Shaddarra dropped from the balcony on to the ledge below and jumped onto the street that intersected the bar's. Luckily no one spotted him and the attention he loathed for climbing down the building was lacking to his relief. He walked along the opposite side of the street parallel to the bar and he saw it. A man loading his wares and beverages out of a cart and into the store left the door open into the backroom of the bar. Shaddarra sprinted across the street and turned around the bend onto the street where the alleyway was located just ahead of him, which led him to the back of the bar. _Perfect I just have to get past this man and whoever is overseeing the shipment and I'll do fine._

Shaddarra once again looked around to see what he could use and to his dismay, did not find anything. He grabbed a flask from his belt and drank to satisfy his desiccated throat. _The only way I can get in is by simply walking in without anyone seeing me, or seeing me without any reason to question my presence._ _I guess I'll just have to watch the man as he moves back and forth._ Shaddarra watched the man walk back and forth and decided that the best way to get in would be by following behind the gargantuan man and simply hide as he placed his wares. Shaddarra studied the man and his plan once more and decided he had no more options. The man walked out one more time and Shaddarra executed his plan. _Now is my chance!_ Shaddarra sprinted across the courtyard and ran behind the man, all with utter Silence.

He walked slowly behind the man occasionally peering over the man's shoulder to see what lay ahead. As they walked into the back room of the bar Shaddarra instantly stopped, crouched, and in a moment searched the room with his flitting eyes. He spotted two cabinets. One faced the wall to his right, and the other faced him. They were set at a corner and their own corners touched each other. He saw there was a space between the corner and the two cabinets. _Perfect!_ He instantly climbed the cabinets and dropped into the space with about 4 inches between his head and the top edges of the cabinets. He peeked over the top and waited about another 20 minutes until the man was done his shipment.

_At last, Sharquin will be pleased that I have come this far without any suspicion or detection, now then, on towards my task._ Shaddarra quietly clambered over the edge of the cabinet searching and listening for some poor person on undergoing their usual duties that would have the great misfortune of meeting Shaddarra. As the sun slowly began to set outside, Shaddarra made his way into the bar and looked for the box he was supposed to bump and once again looked at the slip of paper he was ordered to surreptitiously drop. He looked up and continued his search but to his dismay he did not see any box.

He then thought back to the instructions and remembered that a person should be sitting on the box. His eyes scanned the room once again, and this time he found what he was looking for. A cloaked man, hood up covering his head and the upper portion of his face silently sat on a box inspecting the runic knife Shaddarra remembered from the instructions. The box and the man was only three or four feet from the door. Looking around the room he searched for the proper path he should take. _Considering my height, no one would find it surprising if I decided to sit at the bar itself, from there it would be simple for me to navigate my way towards the box. _The man had not noticed Shaddarra yet and he was pleased to see so. In case this turned out to be an entire ignominy, no one, not even his contact would know of his arrival, his leaving, and most importantly, his identity. Shaddarra sat on a bar stool, while simultaneously pulling down his own hood, and asked the bar tender for a drink of water. Within moments the drink was brought to him and Shaddarra drank and quenched his now dry throat. The long wait behind the cabinets had run him dry of his flask. Once the latter portion of his water was consumed he stood and began to walk towards the front door, while making sure that the way to the back exit was clear.

As he moved towards the front door he performed the single action that he would never do again during the entire length of his long life. He tripped. As he fell, a man grabbed him and held him upright once again. Shaddarra with his hood down, thanked t he man and walked towards the back door. _"Mission complete!"_ he thought satisfied. And with that he left the bar through the back and looked up. What he once thought was a courtyard was actually a structure that would eventually be a tower. He looked to the right and found the scaffolding he was meant to find and climbed. No one was in the courtyard, and night had fallen. The guards were making their rounds in the streets below. Shaddarra sprinted from roof-top to roof-top and left the Arboron district into his own. He jumped down from the rooftop onto a stack of crates behind a building and left the alleyways and onto the streets. He walked through the main gate and upon entering his sub-division, he put on the scarf concealing the lower half of his face as he walked in the direction of his house. When he tripped his hand had been in his cloak and while tripping his foot bumped the box while his hand dropped the paper. The man certainly noticed Shaddarra by this time, and the moment the paper was dropped he snatched it from the air as it fell.

He climbed the buildings once again and made for his rooftop, his shadow flying across the roofs as he seemingly flew from building to building, jumping, flipping, diving, and eventually stopping at the trap door which led to his home, his sanctuary. He pulled and once again, the door made no noise as he set it onto the roof. He climbed down the steps and slowly pulled the door shut, and allowed it to rest on his fingers not allowing any noise as it was shut when he pulled his fingers through. He walked down the stairs and removed his disguise and put on his more comfortable home clothes. He then walked into his dark bedroom and sat on the bed exhausted and waited for Sharquin to return from his duties. As he laid there on his bed he began to wonder where Sharquin could be and smiled as he thought to himself of his success and how he beat his brother home. Towards the middle of the night, he heard a click and instantly was up and crouched in the shadows in the corner of the room. He watched the windows sure it was Sharquin, but then again, you could never be too sure these days.

As he watched, his eyes grew with wonder at what he now saw. The same man from the bar climbed into the window and shut the door. Then it hit him, why the man at the bar looked familiar despite the man's covered eyes and nose. It was Sharquin! Shaddarra walked out and Sharquin removed his hood, his eyes, glowed a light red in the dark and he smiled. "Shaddarra, on this day you have completed a task. The task was not for our escape, but for your development. You have been placed into some of the most difficult situations, some for our escape, but mainly, once again for your development. Over these past few months the reason we increased our missions and skill levels to the highest degree was so that you would be ready. You see, while you may have taken these missions as opportunities to impress me into trusting you more, you were behind me in thinking this time. You proved yourself long ago, and these missions were merely safeguards to truly prove that you would act properly in the situations you would find yourself in. You passed the tests flawlessly and I now can operate knowing that you can be trusted in our escapades to be able to work independent of my guidance, and operate in the way I would work. Now I can truly rely on you as if I was taking the job into my own hands."

"Congratulations Shaddarra, though you are not physically at my skill level, you are mentally, to a great extent. Although you aren't completely there, you are very close, closer than ever before! At this point we can be called equals… to an extent of course!"

Shaddarra gave a rare smile as he knew what this meant. _At last Sharquin can rely on me!_ But then, Shaddarra's rare smile, changed into a frown. "What's the matter Shaddarra? For once I was enjoying that smile of yours." Shaddarra silently thought to himself as to how he should say it and then spoke. "I underestimated myself. That isn't a good thing." It was only then that Sharquin understood. Shaddarra had underestimated himself, and in the lifestyle that they lived and acted in, to not know ones capability was a dangerous thing. You could overestimate yourself and get yourself killed doing something you weren't ready for, or, you could underestimate yourself and deny yourself valuable opportunities.

"Shaddarra, in time you will come to know what your limits are. Right now you need not worry about that, because I understand you. You would only need to completely and fully know your abilities if I wasn't there to help you. And that isn't happening anytime soon!" Sharquin's grin faded, "Now we are done preparing, we will leave tonight. As much as I would like to take our time and leave early, every minute we stay here gives us another minute to be caught for stealing those items from the fortress. That isn't a chance I am willing to take so we will have to leave as soon as possible."

………………………………

"Well?" said Eragon. "I can't tell you the rest, because I don't know all of it" replied his mentor. "the rest of the story you will have to discover yourself, but what you will have to do… I will inform you when you leave this world. In any case you will continue your training. Your mind has been thoroughly prepared for the more rigorous training and now we will work on combat. I have made a rather important decision."

Standing, the ancient one looked down on his younger counter-part.

"Your training will be periodically interrupted by several trips to the other world, where you will collect certain items to further your training. Now stand, your true trials begin now. Like Brom, I won't be going easy on you." Upon hearing this, Eragon replied "Great, that's just my style!" His mentor gave a slight smile, and replied "Lets begin."

"Your body is only partially complete in the evolution process from a freakish magical accident - which changes you from human to elf – into what you were meant to be.

A Kuthian

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**Author's Note **

**Been a really long time, I'll be updating a lot more soon, because I'm finally done composing my story line. A LOT more to come. **


	10. Part 1: Chapter VIII

**Author's Note**

**Note Not to discourage those reading this, but… the story that I'm writing requires a higher level of understanding of explanations. If you are not exactly someone who can understand a higher level explanation, then please don't read the story until you can, because you will not properly understand the rules of the newer systems Eragon is immersed in and will not understand the storyline and its depth. So A) Get someone to explain the thing for you, or B) Don't read it until you are ready. If you can understand my explanations then good for you, because this chapter is a VERY important one towards the story line, because in this, you get a glimpse of the power of the Kuthians. Also I am writing this without reading Brisingr. I will write this without reading Brisingr, because my original grand and amazing story line was done without it and Brisingr might force me to change it certain aspects of it which I refuse. So there, as I said earlier this is a very important chapter, if you can't understand, don't read it.**

**Possibly my fastest update time. Credits to Paolini for Eragon etc. Note there are more of my notations in this story, so as soon as you see the number, bold and in parentheses, scroll down to the very bottom of the screen not looking at the rest of the story to read the explanation I gave for the corresponding number. Be careful not to read the other explanations as you might spoil something for yourself.**

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Rebirth of a Kuthian

Exhaustion gripped him, the repeating blows of sword on sword. After 40 straight human days, even his newly found powers were at its pure limit. The only thing good that he noticed was that if he was still in his human-elven form, he wouldn't even be able to think properly, the weariness would have easily clouded his judgment. Though his body was at the point of collapse, his mind was still strong. _But how can that help me in this situation. With someone of his skill, I'm just waiting for it to end. The very moment our blades touched, it was exactly like the moment Zar'roc crossed blades with Durza. The moment our blades met here, I knew I was outclassed by a mile, but to simply play with the victim for 40 days!? Unbelievable, I don't stand a chance. If he were to fight, without holding back, I doubt even the mightiest elf could hold him off for about half a second at the most. His speed is incredible!._

The blows kept coming and the only relief Eragon had, was that it would always come from the front. His new developing body possessed astounding stamina and dexterity, but against the might of a fully developed Ancient Elf Rider still at his peak, he was no match. Swinging at him, his mentor finally said something in the last 32 hours. "Ready to give up Eragon?" asked his mentor with a smirk. _I can't hold out against him like this!_ _The only thing that I have is my mind!_ _It is rather unusual, even though my body is weary, my mind is strong._ And then it hit him. _My mind!_ "Master, I think I have finally learned one of my first lessons in battle." smiled Eragon. "Oh?" replied his mentor. "And what would that be?" As Eragon sidestepped a blow, he whispered "Using my mind during battle." With that, he forced his mind to physically attack his mentor just as he broke the barriers his mentor put up as training, he rammed up against the body of his mentor sending him staggering backwards a few feet. _Ha! Now I have some thing to work with!_

Eragon closed his eyes, and saw the world clearly as dots of light his master a glowing orb. He could also see the power of his mind; a blue hue compared the black and gold world of twilight. Within his mind, he was able to see his new skill, to use his mind to manipulate the physical world. If he used his mind to pick up a sword, he could clearly see in his mind a part of the blue aura that was his mind branch off to pick up the sword. In other words, he could see his mind picking it up as if it was a blue living being. It reminded him of Saphira. The downside to being able to see his mind was that in order to do so he had to be in an extreme form of meditation. He was able to see his master, a light against the darkness around him. He attacked again with his mind and watched as the blue limb streaked towards the pinprick of light, twirling and twisting as it accelerated towards at an incredible, which Eragon was surprised he was able to keep up with.

The limb reached the pin prick of light and struck it. The light was forced back once again, but eventually stopped the blue aura. Eragon attacked with his mind again; because now that he could attack in the physical world using his mind without the need of using the Ancient Language for such a thing, he could attack using direction. He crushed down with his mind from above and the light was engulfed, the blue aura writhing as it crushed down upon the light, attempting to blot it out. Eragon felt something shift, and then it happened. The blue limb shattered and felt in his mind the connection disappear no pain or loss of strength, just the empty feeling of what was once a part of his mind, which his mind filled once again. In this Eragon learned his second lesson. _The strength of my mind when formed into the invisible limbs in the physical world will become_ _a solid weapon that only I can use. Because it's in the physical world, I can attack from different directions, and possibly mold that physical form of my mind into a proper shape, such as a blade, hammer, and such. If that form is shattered then I can reform it as well as many times as I wish. _"_Had enough time thinking Eragon?"_ Eragon nearly went into shock as the voice he heard as he ascended the tower returned. _"If you don't mind, I would like to return to the offensive."_

Eragon looked around and saw the light again… moving at him at a breakneck pace. Instantly Eragon lashed out with his mind and the blue aura struck forward. It was moving so fast that within an instant it reached his mentor. However just as it was about to strike the glowing orb, the light simply sidestepped it and continued traveling at him. Eragon thought quickly **(1)**, and from the main limb, an entirely different limb lashed out smacking full into the side of his mentor. "_Even I know he wasn't prepared for that one!" _thought Eragon. "_And you were correct," _replied his master. _"It appears that I was right in judging how to train you. After your physical body has reached its limit, your mind can reach its full potential, and develop faster than normal. I was only expecting you to be able to start attacking with your mind after a couple of more years of making you break those barriers, but you have already developed the ability to create multiple branches. within your mind."_

Eragon understood, and realized that his Master knew him better than he knew himself. As he controlled the main limb and the one branching off of it, he swung it at his master attempting to knock him away attacking using the main limb and when he dodged quickly lunge in with the second more smaller limb… but he missed… and the dreaded orb of light **(2)** was within the space between Eragon and the limbs. _If I try attacking him from behind, he will only be pushed towards me!_ The orb of light flashed towards, him and Eragon had no idea what he should do. Dumbfounded he frantically thought. _The only way to knock him back with enough force is to create a second main limb_ **(3) **_but there is no way I have the mental power to be controlling 2 main limbs and a minor one at one time!_ Eragon began to panic, as he realized that the only thing that could help him was his training. His master was too wise and smart to have not seen Eragon in this kind of situation. _He would not have placed me in this situation unless there was something he taught me that could get me out._

Frantically he looked back at the now 20 years of training. And then it hit Eragon concerning what he must do. _I have to shatter my own connection just as breaking a barrier! _As Eragon tried to shatter the connection that was part of his mind, he discovered yet another thing. It was almost exactly like breaking the barriers that his mentor and forced him to break through for all those years except for one difference. Because it was part of his mind, the connection was a lot stronger than a mere barrier produced by another mind, and thus, breaking it would be a lot harder than the barriers he was used to.

He focused his mind on the single area where the connection met his mind, and pushed against it. Intentionally stopping the connection was a lot harder than having someone break it for you, but he kept pushing. Through his minds eye, he saw the connection waning, and the orb of light closer than ever before. _"Too late Eragon."_ whispered the voice. And in that moment the entire world seemed to slow down slightly, the connection seemed to be waning and eroding at the same pace Eragon was doing so, however, the rest of the world of twilight began to slow down, and Eragon began seeing things. There were billions of tiny lights moving at speeds Eragon never thought possible. As he looked up he nearly went into shock.

What Eragon saw was the hand. The hand of his mentor balled into a fist, rapidly moving right towards him. The reason why Eragon was so shocked however was not because of the fear of pain and such, but because of the actual closeness of his master, he wasn't sure if he could react in time. If that blow connected anywhere on his body, he would be drawn out of the deep meditation where he had the chance to defend himself and there was no way he had the strength to re-enter it in his present state if he slipped out of it. The fact that he could see the fist itself was evident enough that his master was on the brink of forcing him out of the depths of his mind. How did he know this? It was because he was able to actually SEE the fist itself. Countless times Eragon viewed the physical world through the eye of his mind, and all he could see were tiny pin pricks of light, the living minds of other beings in other dimensions.

But that was the most he could see, for his powers as a Kuthian had barely developed and he could barely see anything except for the lights themselves. He could not see any thing more than that. Details, actual images, even when he was fighting the Ancient Eragon, all he could aim at was that little orb of light, the fact that the Ancient One was close enough for him to clearly see the his fist was the evidence of how close his master had gotten past his defenses, for Eragon could not make out any details at all unless the object was directly in front of him.

The pure rage he felt when he realized that this was where his battle ended. That his first time training in actual combat with someone truly powerful, not impaired or a mere human, he would fail. The rage that coursed through him when he realized he would lose simply because he was too weak… too slow. Something within him began to burn. His very blood boiled with rage at this fact. He could feel the blood pumping to all of the extremities of his body. He could feel the blood as it pumped into his hands and feet. It felt like waves of motion were travelling though his body at a tremendous pressure to the point where he could feel it traveling from his heart, to his arms, to his finger tips, and back again. _Has the pressure of my blood increased, or have I become more aware of my body?_ Eragon wondered. But there was one more thing that Eragon noticed. His mentor's hand had stopped altogether; it was as if the earlier slow-down of time was only the instigation of what would lead to this.

As Eragon began to understand some of the implications, he made his move. Suddenly his mind was stronger, clearer. He still had a chance.

_ Hmm, it appears my little pupil is done. Not bad, I would say for his first lesson, even I had a bit of trouble getting used to the system, but he seems to have it down pretty well for a beginner._ Then something unexpected happened. There was a spike in the twilight particles. With a deafening blast the Ancient One was blown off of his feet, and forced onto the ground, and with a deafening crack, the tiled glass like floors of the Twilight Tower cracked. "_Didn't expect that, looks like I will have to up my speed a notch" _thought the Ancient One.

Eragon was comfortable with the new increase in power. He felt great, the continual surges of energy coursing through his body had a completely different sensation than the adrenaline he was normally accustomed to as his mental speed multiplied 10 fold its normal speed. Originally before this amazing surge of power, his mind was slower; though fast to him because the speed of the mind itself is incredibly fast. The reason why he was able to fight with it was because he was using his mind to fight, and using his mind to interpret, they were synchronized. Meaning he could attack at the speed of his mind, and because he was using his mind and not his body, he could keep up with the speed of his mind. Because he was in deep meditation, he was able to abandon the senses of his body, and fully focus on using his mind, forming attacks and executing them. **(4)**

With a wide grin, Eragon made his move. Before, the speed of Eragon's mind was of a Rider. It was faster than a human's, and rivaled the elves. He couldn't see how fast it was because the eye of his mind was in sync with the speed of his thoughts but now… His mind was even faster, at least 10 times the speed which he previously possessed before this surge of power. Because his minds eye was in sync with his thoughts, he couldn't feel the difference in speed. For along with the increase of speed in his thoughts, so has the speed of the interpretation of those thoughts increased. No matter how fast he got, he wouldn't be able to feel the difference in speed, but he could CLEARLY see the difference in other things. Earlier, the billions of lights that he saw when he first used the power of his mind were moving at incredible speeds. But now, he could see the lights moving gently, floating about. _Now I can fight._

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**Author's Note**

**Well not that much on story line progression, but a lot in terms of training. A lot more to come; also, for those of you who have stuck with me thus far, I would like to say thanks. I realize that my earlier chapters were lacking in content and quality and will see if I can fix that soon enough, so thanks for giving my story a chance. But until I fix those chapters, review me. Fairly soon, I'll update my Fan Fic profile and you guys can send me personal e-mails, be it a more personal REVIEW or just questions. Feel free to ask questions about the story but please give most reviews in the actual review page in Fan Fic. If you feel the need to give a REALLY personal review, then send it to me.**

_**Twilight S.**_

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**(1.)**Not necessarily an explanation, but more an apology for the pun. Eragon using his mind to fight – "He thought quickly"- **:P**

**(2.)**For those of you confused with the "orb of light", it is the Ancient Eragon. When viewing the physical world in his mind rather than just feeling his way around, Eragon can only see living beings, minds, and generally things of that nature as pinpricks of light. This orb of light is his master.

**(3.)**The idea here is that when controlling the aura that is his mind, he uses one main branch, and one minor one from the main one. He can keep producing branches, or produce minor ones off of the major ones. What he is saying, is that he doesn't have the mental fortitude to be able to keep track of two main branches, a minor one, and the battle at the same time implying that using his mind in multiple branches require great concentration and mental alacrity to control them.

**(4.)**To put it simply, when Eragon used his body to fight, his mind would form the thought to attack, and his body, unable to move at the speed of the mind, would react to the thought and move, attack etc at the speed that a Rider's body could react. Elves faster than humans, Riders faster than elves and that kind of thing… His body was and is unable to move at the speed of his mind, and therefore, ultra high speed combat was an impossibility for him. However, now that Eragon is able to use his mind to actually attack without the need to form words of the ancient language to manipulate space and energy he could achieve that speed. In other words, a mind focused on physical attacks at the speeds of the mind. Because he uses his mind to manipulate the physical world (similar to telekinesis), the actual execution of the thought or attack is the same speed as the thought. Basically the physical attacks he makes with his mind are now are now as fast as Eragon can think them.


	11. Part 1: Chapter IX

**Author's Note **

**Well my next update, more things introduced in this one. So enjoy, credits to Paolini for Eragon etc. You thought I gave up on the story didn't you? Also, though the story is in the beginning based on Eragon, Eldest, etc. Eventually it will come to the point where you will never hear a single name from Alagaesia mentioned ever again. When the time comes I will reiterate it, but once again, when it does come to that point, it will no longer have ANYTHING to do with the original Eragon series and I will have taken you into a completely different tale. Once again, at that point I will stop giving the credits to Paolini because the story features concerning his idea of Alagaesia will be completely eliminated and my story will come into play. **

_Who Needs a Sword?_

Eragon looked at his pupil, the sheer look of excitement on the young boy's face as the blood of the Kuthians was finally beginning to awaken. _The body will go through much more changes and this is only the beginning of a creation of a Kuthian._ As the waves upon waves of energy emanating from his pupil crashed against him, he felt it within him again. The joy of bringing up a younger Kuthian, a joy he had not known in many years. It was the equivalency of raising a child, and yet the bond between them once they became companions would be as close as brothers.

Eragon looked at his master, the grin on his face; the sheer joy that he showed because of Eragon's success as continued to progress stride by stride. His master was truly happy that he was succeeding. Eragon began to look back at the fatherly figures in his life. Garrow, Brom, Oromis, and now an Ancient, the very first Rider. He looked at his hands for a moment. _The power that I gained, all thanks to him! What might he expect from me as one who must obtain higher power?_ He looked up once more and noticed that the grin was now gone, and instead, there was a serious look on his face, one with a look of expectancy, one of a being waiting their entire life for a single moment such as this. Eragon once again thought of the power that he had gained, and once again looked up. _I will not disappoint you master!_ The branches of his mind shot out again, though he could not feel the difference in speed with himself, but he did know that his master had raised the bar once again, and again grew faster.

Eragon put his all into it, pushing his mind to the limit. He was easily able to keep up; however once again, his master grew faster. He struck at his master from an angle and immediately began his barrage. He struck from many angles at once now that his mind was amplified and easily supported the concentration of more branches; the orb was driven back again and again. Yet just as fast as his barrage was, the speed of the force with which it was blocked and avoided kept up. _How is he able to be so fast? If THIS is the true power of a Kuthian, then I don't think I will ever attain it! My attacks are as fast as the ability to think, and yet his PHYSICAL body is easily able to keep up! His body is faster than I can think! But that would mean…._

All of a sudden, everything turned against him. The orb that Eragon was barraging all of a sudden disappeared. Everything seemed to occur slowly. He saw the branches of the aura that was his mind speed towards his target, roughly 2 good bowshots away, but just as it reached its intention, the orb vanished. In that instant his eyes widened with pure and absolute shock. He felt it on the back of his head, the feeling of the point of cold metal at the very base of the neck.

"Your powers have grown considerably," came the cold whisper. "You are able to attack with your mind, and the speed of your mind has increased. Temporarily in this state unfortunately, however there is one thing you have yet to discover. The TRUE power of the Kuthians, the unlocking of your mind was a significant milestone yes, but our next goal, the goal that will possibly take the longest, is to unlock your body!"

Eragon's body was still in shock, the sheer shock of his master, being so far away, and yet in an instant, he was right behind him with a blade to his neck. _His speed is unfathomable! His physical body is FASTER than I can think. He can move faster than my mind can process attacks! I thought that being able to attack with my mind would allow me finally do something to my master, to fight back, and yet he didn't even need his mind to beat me. He was going easy on me this whole time, I'm sure of it. He beat me without even using the power of his mind. To make one's physical body move as fast as the mind… is that even possible? And yet… that is my goal? Unthinkable! Whatever the Kuthians once were, one could've wiped out an entire army within a moment. And yet they traveled in pairs? I myself can obliterate a reasonable amount of enemies simply by using my newly found powers, my mind and its incredible speed of attacks. At the same time however, he could simply run, or jump, or whatever he did, to simply get behind me before my mind's eye could track him and process his location, and put a blade up to my neck. If we were truly fighting, I would literally be dead without ever knowing what had happened simply because my body and mind are too slow! He is beyond the league of all demons, shades, and all sorts of creatures. I wouldn't blink an eye if he told me he could cross Alagaesia in an instant and behead Galbatorix without ever touching the ground!! Also…I cannot even begin to imagine how fast his mind is in comparison to his body!_

As the steel was removed from the base of his neck, Eragon let out an enormous breath of air. "Surprised?" questioned his master. Eragon responded with a nod, and stood up trembling. He nearly collapsed, but his master's hand was on his shoulder, already steadying him. He took several deep breaths to steady his beating heart, and turned towards his master. "Well then, care to explain this one?" asked Eragon with an unsteady smile. "Gladly," responded his master, "The truth is Eragon, your mind is beyond what a Kuthian would call slow. When you first came into this world, and even now, I actually had to slow myself down, to match your pace, otherwise, I would not have been able to communicate with you. These particles, you see floating in the air at incredible speeds, are actually as fast as a speck of dust floating in the sky to someone of the average level of the Kuthians."

As Eragon listened to this, his heart beat quickened once more. He grew nauseous as he began to grasp how slow he really was. "Eragon, the truth is, the beings that you must fight are demonic creatures. They are more powerful than your average dragon, and are as fast as I am and even faster. What I am training you to fight, can exist in your world of Alagaesia, however, you must be up to par with the speed of the Kuthians to enter the plane on which it exists. Both worlds possess planes on which something can think or move. Elves, Riders, Dwarves, Humans, Urgals, and many forms of life that are living in your plane or dimension, plants and such live on another plane, the Menoa tree for example, it is a living being that thinks as we do, but it's thoughts are at a much slower level, and we understand that it lives on a plane far beneath us.

"In order to enter the plane on which you must fight these beasts, you must be as fast as I am. You must enter a level of speed that is above the plane of the average both physically and mentally, you must be fast enough and strong enough to break the dimensional barrier that holds one plane from seeping into the next. If it weren't for this rule, this one physical law, you would all be dead because of the much more powerful beings that live in the upper planes." The reason why these beings are so dangerous is simply this, when the Kuthians lived in the world of Alagaesia, there were many more beings that lived in the upper planes, predators and prey just as in our plane. However, when the vast majority of Kuthians were eliminated, the higher powered beings were wiped out from those planes and those planes became rather vacant and empty. The predator creatures of those planes gradually became ravenous and degraded themselves to feed on the people we know. Now, when it comes in your ability to reach those higher planes, you are able to affect lower planes while you are at your higher speed, however lower planes cannot really affect you simply because you are too fast." As Eragon took this in, he already knew where his master was going with this.

"So basically, if I don't attain that power, then the unbalance of the missing Kuthians can force these creatures upon those who live on the lower planes."

The Ancient One looked fondly upon the young Kuthian. _He is bright, even if he isn't the right one, he will get far, very far... No! Stop, thinking back will only bring tears._ As Eragon sighed and looked at his master, another question came to him. "Master, what about this world… are their higher planes in this world." Instantly, his mentor's face darkened. His arms grew slightly rigid and his hands clenched. "Eragon that is a bit of information that I cannot tell you, but it is something that you must find on your own. I didn't actually consider the idea, but considering the fact that Galbatorix has been on the move lately, it might be a smart idea if you start collecting the artifacts of the Kuthians. There are certain artifacts that will react if you touch them, or reach out to them, rather than hearing the story by my mouth you will personally hear the story from our now dead commander and leader. His tale of how he arose to bring back the Kuthians from their exile from the world of Alagaesia. You will hear and see the story from his mouth and eyes. I only heard the story once from the days when I was learning who I was as a Kuthian, and yet the things that our leader went through burns within my mind as if I was next to him during his extraordinary trials."

The Ancient One shook his head, and then looked at him once again. "We must continue the training once again. The next step in our training is as I said earlier. We must unlock your body, but before I can do that, you must understand what must be learned concerning your heritage… and your father's. Eragon nearly threw up right there as the words left his master's lips. "I understand what Morzan did, who he was, and what it means to me. I…" The Ancient One lifted his hand, silencing Eragon, he looked into his eyes, and Eragon understood that there was something more to what he was. "To understand your heritage, you must also understand the heritage of our leader. How it all began and what it means for what you were destined to finish. All this can only happen by unlocking your body which will take much time. Your body Eragon is going through a more serious change then when the dragons changed you. Once again, I cannot further explain unless you truly understand your heritage so we must turn to other lessons while we wait for your body to develop towards the minimum of what is required to begin your quests for self discovery."

"First, we will work on your combat skills without the use of a blade. For someone of your stature, it should be fairly simple to fight this way. You will easily be able to fight without the use of a sword. Fairly soon, in order to gather the artifacts of the Kuthians, we must return to the world of Alagaesia. Please refrain from such a dumbfounded look, yes I will come with you. We must gather these artifacts for you to know who you are, why we as Kuthians fight, who we fight, and the truth behind what you are destined to be." Eragon looked down at his hands. _Why must all this fall upon me?_ He looked up at his master and saw his inspiration. Every time he looked into those eyes, he felt something burn within him. It was a kinship that he didn't even have with Saphira. Though he was joined with Saphira, what he shared with this master was something of a brotherhood. _Perhaps we would be the equivalency of a pair of Kuthians._

"Eragon rise, we must continue the training now. You have already seen how one can fight with the mind, to create walls, barriers, attacks, and all sorts of things. Now you will begin to learn what I fought you with. My body; what you are to learn today is to fight the mind with the body. Obviously it is something that is extremely hard if the person is attacking, however if they are defending and you have inspired enough fear that they dare not attack, then it is within your ability to attack with your physical body against the mind, just as you learned how to attack using the mind against the physical body. There are certain blades that can do the same… but that is something you aren't ready for. What you must be content with for now is how to properly use your body as its weapon. It wasn't uncommon for a Kuthian to be able to hold his own against another one in a duel even if he was disarmed. So we shall begin with the body and it is only from there that we learn how to fight with weapons. For if you cannot even fight without one what will you do if you are in a situation where you don't have one?"

Following this, Eragon was forced to practice several stances, several of which he knew from swordplay such as the stances concerning center of gravity, and where to shift your weight and when you should do so. Continuing this, and for several hours to come, Eragon would continuously study these stances, and exactly when he should shift them. He didn't punch, kick, or move from his general position; he simply shifted stances as his master changed his. Following this he began to begin responding to certain stances, faster, and with confidence. The fact that his new body could keep up with such acrobatics pleased Eragon. He flipped and twirled, dodged and weaved in and out of attacks. It was hard to believe that he had already done this for several hours already and yet he did not feel tired.

"You've done well," smiled The Ancient One, "You are nearing the 1st tier of expectations in the field of hand to hand combat. Now we shall move on to hand to hand combat against a person with a blade." As if from no where, The Ancient One pulled out a blade and shield. "What you must learn when fighting against pitiful humans **(1)**, is that their weapons and defenses all have a weakness. You do not have the proper eyes for the task, but finding a weak spot can easily allow you to crush any weapon or armor, regardless of its make, except for the blades of the Rider of course. In any case, for now we shall practice with this shield. Most weapons and armor will obviously be of human make, however, when it comes to dwarven or even elven make, the weak spot will be near impossible to find. For now you will have to settle for these human ones."

For another set of grueling hours, Eragon began to study how exactly one should find the weak spot, whether it was waiting for them to swing the blade and see where it would stick or resisted, or looking for the most smallest dent in a plate of armor. _At least I can see that I'm making progress. At the speeds and strength that I'm fighting, I can probably fight elves just as I did humans at the Burning Plains. Easily able to fight, but over a longer period of time, say several hours, I'd be just as weak as the elves, funny that I can now call elves weak, and humans absolutely pitiful. _ As Eragon found another weak point on the armor, and struck at it with his newly found strength that surpassed even the elves, the armor rang out loud.

The highest room of the Twilight Tower rang out loud with fist against steel for more hours to come, and then it began to shift. _I'm beginning to be able to see the weaknesses more clearly! If I can just concentrate on that one spot…_ As Eragon began to focus on a single dent through out all his blows he began incorporating the different stances and his acrobatics. Along with those, he began to improvise with stances and tactics just as he would if he were fighting with a sword. "Good Eragon, you're beginning to see your body as a weapon!" As Eragon dodged another blow, he grinned as he struck the blade and heard a satisfying crack. He saw the resistance in the blade so clearly as it bended while it was swung through the air. Attacking the blade itself at that point assured its demise. As the blade was once again struck, it shattered as Eragon delivered the final blow, but before he could kick the hilt of the blade out of his master's hand, the shield was upon him in a moment.

Eragon ducked as the shield was swung over his head, as it was done so however, he noticed that it was worn out in many places. _This is more likely to simulate an actual battle. In real battle, all those dents might have been caused by arrow shafts! I'm not only training for combat, but I'm doing so in scenarios that I'm likely to face. _Eragon, now that he didn't have to worry about the sword began concentrating on the shield. Because his master had slowed himself down to a human's speed it was fairly easy to strike the shield in all of its weak points consecutively. The shield was barely moving at this point as once again his master was showing him the results of battle of a slightly weakened human. "Master, if this is how slow humans are truly to be, then how am I to communicate with them or the elves if I think and see at much higher levels?" He side-stepped another blow by the sluggish shield, then leaping in, he rapped the bracer's of the emulated human, and then knocking him down. The Ancient One got up, back to his normal speed, and responded. "To communicate with humans, elves, and dwarves alike, you must place limits on your minds. These limits are what will slow down your physical body, and though I wouldn't recommend it your mental state as well. By slowing down your physical body, your body will interpret the world as it normally would, however with a more advanced, faster state of mind, you can act upon actions and responses much more quickly, and because your mind is faster, you can think things faster. Meaning if you were placed in a situation where a decision must be made, or where you must say study an image, your mind will have much more time to interpret and think these things because it is faster.

"Also, when you place and remove limits on your mind, you shift what plane you are acting upon." As these words hit Eragon, he felt as if a veil was lifted from his eyes. Suddenly, everything made sense now as he thought about it more. _The slower your mind and body are, the lower the plane you live and act upon. If I can remove those limits… then that's how I enter the higher planes!_ Understanding this Eragon smiled once more, as he no longer felt as if he was living in a completely unknown world. _There is indeed logic to all of this. _

"However," The Ancient One frowned, "If you wish to enter higher planes, you must become powerful in both mind and body in order to access them. It is impossible for someone of a lower level of mind and body to enter the upper planes simply because they cannot keep up with it. If they do so, they will endanger themselves because they enter the higher planes, higher powers of demons, and monsters of the like, and are completely exposed. They are too slow to defend themselves, and the beasts of the upper planes will be upon them before they can even think. You would be instantaneously killed. In order to prevent such a thing, our commander and leader sealed the upper planes to those unable to access them. Imagine a hallway divided into rooms, and the rooms you are not yet ready to access lack door handles. The doors themselves are there, however your ability to access them are not. In the same way, the planes themselves exist, but you cannot access them until you are ready. "

Eragon looked down to his hands. _I must become stronger and faster!_ He looked up and saw his master smiling again holding up the shield before him. He lunged at the shield once more and swung with all of his might with enough willpower to conquer the world.

**Author's Note**

**Well my next update. Sorry it took so long but then again, 3768 words. Not bad compared to the average chapter of about 2000 words eh? Still in any case, expect more updates etc.**

_Twilight Shadow_


	12. Prequel: Chapter IV

**Author's Note**

**My next update, happy New Year, Christmas, Hanukkah, whatever you celebrate, credits to Paolini for Eragon yata yata, bleh. Sorry for the late update, didn't really have that much motivation to write the story until someone sent me a review. Anyway, back to our favorite two man team!**

_Beneath the Light of the Moon_

It didn't feel like anything he had felt before. The anticipation he felt as they ran towards the walls, leaping from building to building. Shaddarra heard a shout behind him. He glanced back and spotted 3 guards sluggishly following them. Jumping from building to building, losing their balance with each landing like infants first learning how to walk, one cried, "Halt in the name of Baradon!" Shaddarra, annoyed, began to think to himself, _Why would they even bother saying halt? Do they really expect anyone to listen to them? Are they just simply stupid?_ Looking forward, several rooftops ahead, were a mess of wooden beams and bars, interconnected and interwoven in a massive mesh, signifying the construction of a new floor to the structure. _Perfect, we can take care of them here._ Sharquin was already a step ahead of him and motioned Shaddarra to come closer to him.

Putting on a burst of speed, Shaddarra sprinted towards the mass of wood, dirt, and rope. However, before he could, two pairs of guards leaped up from both to his left and right, effectively cutting him off from Sharquin, and the next rooftop. Running forward, drawing his blade into a backhanded grip, he slashed and stabbed with his left hand, while his right hand chopped and blocked. The reverse grip threw the guards off balance, the unique fighting style was never before seen. Within seconds, the first pair of guards was effectively disabled, their weapons tossed aside, and their legs lacerated by a dozen slashes. The second pair of guards jumped in, but before they could react, Shaddarra slashed upward with his hand and half sword in his right hand, hitting the guard's downward slash, knocking the guard's blade upward. The guard, still trying to stop the momentum of his sword as it flew up, was helpless as Shaddarra swooped low, and using the guard of the blade as well as the hilt, he drove into the guard's legs, pushing forward with a force strong enough to knock the guard forward in a forward flip. The second guard, when Shaddarra turned around, was lying in a pool of blood, a blade lodged in his neck.

Before Shaddarra could react, he heard a scuttling sound on the side of the building. From the corner, jumped another guard, but meeting him as he jumped up was a knife thrown from the ominous shadows that hid Sharquin. The blade nearly severed the neck as it lodged itself in the man, the blade plunging so deep, the handle nearly went all the way in as well. The guard fell to the roof, blood spraying from his neck. Seeing this unnerved Shaddarra, he never did get used to killing…

Shaddarra turned and leaped towards the next building, landing neatly, crouched on a wooden beam, and proceeded to jump, grab, and leap his way up towards the shadows that would conceal him in the beams. The incomplete walls casted shadowed areas in the open wooden construction, the three incomplete walls formed many shadows on the roof, as well as the wooden beams and bars above. The beams provided many wooden platforms with which to work. Shaddarra looked down from his lofty perch up high in the tangle of wood and spied his brother about one section below several platforms to his right. The separation of one platform to the one above was roughly the height of a human, as a result, for Shaddarra and Sharquin to maneuver was a simple task of jumping from one platform to another and to pull them up and down from one level to another to change elevation. The guards on the other hand, had a much larger problem. As the reinforcements arrived, they came to a situation where several soldiers are injured or dead. They face an unknown number of enemies, who have possibly hidden themselves in a complex mass of platforms through which they can easily maneuver. The guards themselves wear heavy armor and such and are limited in movement and dexterity.

_Quite a situation you find yourselves in, eh?_ Shaddarra nearly laughed to himself as the guards looked up towards the construction zone, the fear rampant through their eyes and mind. Sharquin looked at him and communicated to him with hand signals. _A hand placed on the_ _heart… clenched._ _Inspire fear eh? Not a bad idea. I guess it's better than killing._ Shaddarra relayed his reply. He pumped his fist once, the signal for approved and execute. Looking around, Shaddarra smiled as he noticed that the interior of the walls were thinly lined with metal, but lined with metal none the less. Sharquin banged his sword against a bell he held in his left hand. Though where he found a bell left Shaddarra baffled. The ringing echoed and resonated as a result of the metal. The guards immediately went more rigid than before, something Shaddarra didn't think was possible. He chuckled even more just watching them. He could've sworn that they were ready to turn and run away screaming like children.

Shaddarra turned to Sharquin and shrugged his shoulders, palms facing upward, the signal for "I don't know" or "What now?" Sharquin, with his mask covering the lower half of his face leaving nothing but his eyes showing, responded by using two fingers and placing them where his mouth should be and made a downward motion in front of it, the signal for a smile… or a laugh. _What in the name of the elves is that supposed to mean? _ It took him a moment but he understood, he responded with the same motion, two fingers drawn across the mouth, a smile. Crouching low, Sharquin pulled down the mask and executed his plan.

"Look at them," whispered Baran, "They were completely torn apart. I signed onto this job because we can't afford the luxuries we used to be able to. But this isn't worth it!" As he finished muttering to his friend and companion he heard a sound. Immediately, he snapped his attention toward the mass of shadow, wood, and metal before him. An ominous sound arose from the midst of it all. A bell, it resounded through him and he was immediately rendered useless. He couldn't move, or even think. All that went through his mind was the sound of the bell. His eyes were wide with terror as was his companion's. Then after the bell faded into silence a new terror came upon them.

A deep chuckle was heard, echoing, resonating through out the area, maniacal, maddening, and terrifying. That snapped him, with a yelp he sprinted away, not even bothering with his fallen comrades. His partner dropped to his knees, eyes wide with shock, unable to move. A shadow hurled itself from the midst of the wood at an incredible speed. Baran, already many roof tops away heard a single scream behind him and a thump. This only quickened his pace.

Shaddarra was still, squatting next to the man. Poking him with a stick, he whispered to his now laughing brother, "He fainted!" That settled things. Running with a now humorous fervor, they sprinted towards the gates of the city and beyond. The minutes passed by, then nearly an hour, as they neared the city gates, they scanned the high walls for guards. They spotted several that could easily be avoided if one was careful, and they slowly made their way closer. Hiding behind the parapets of a rooftop situated several rooftops away from the wall, they carefully made their way towards the wall. Each roof now had parapets, and they lied on their stomachs slowly crawling along. When they reached the edge of the roofs, they jumped to the next with a Silence that would shame an owl. After another agonizing hour, of creeping towards the wall, they finally reached a roof top that was built into the wall itself. No doubt it housed the family of a guard, or served as a barracks for the sentries, but never the less, they landed on the roof of it safely and quietly. They carefully crouched and stalked forward and then they reached it.

Shaddarra leaned against the wall, his breathing now calmed from their unbearable crawl. He pointed upward towards the guards, and with a clenched fist, slammed his right hand into his left. Sharquin, thought for a moment._ Kill them? Would we be able to take them out quietly? Enough so that none of the other guards would notice? _Sharquin decided against it, and with a deft movement, he slashed his right hand horizontally with his hand flat, the signal for a no. He looked around, anything they could improvise with, and then he saw it. Several roof tops to the left, roof tops built into the wall, was an area undergoing construction. _Good grief, is the entire city falling apart?_ While Shaddarra thought silently, he looked to his right, and to his surprise Sharquin was missing!

To the roof top to his left, Shaddarra saw him pull something off of the wall beneath him, a piece of paper, using a rope and a hook. Shaddarra decided that Sharquin wanted him to wait, and he sat down and calmed his breathing. Several minutes later, Sharquin appeared by his side. "Tired already?" asked Sharquin. "Not on your life. What have you found?" Sharquin looked around and seeing a guard on the wall above approaching their section of the wall, he crouched and leaned against the wall as much as he could, Shaddarra, like wise, did the same. The guard looked around and seeing nothing of particular interest, he continued his rounds. Sharquin leaned over and whispered into Shaddarra's ear, "The fat oaf we know as Barradon has foolishly made enemies with the neighboring clans that live in the nearby regions, something over a woman… pathetic to start a fight over something like that in my opinion. In any case, he honestly believes that by raising the height of the walls, they can greatly increase how well they can defend this little town. A pathetic choice in my opinion, the clans aren't stupid, I have no doubt they already infiltrated the Duke's courts. I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to attempt a coup d'état tonight. In any case, if we had chosen to flee several days after today, then we would have been faced with a significant increase in the number of sentries, the height of the wall, and an increase in guards patrolling the streets and roof tops.

"Basically, it's a good thing we picked tonight…" stated Shaddarra. _Whatever Gods are out there, they seem to be on our side…_ "In any case," said Sharquin, "Wait here, when you hear the bang, climb the wall, and climb down the other side, I'll meet you by the ditch next to the tree about a league north of here. For now, climb half way up the wall…" His eyes lingered on Shaddarra's and without another thought, he bound off in the direction of the construction site. Shaddarra immediately began climbing the high wall, and stopped about halfway. The light of the moon, fell at an angle on the wall, leaving his area in the shadows, but the areas to his right in the light. He already knew what Sharquin had planned. Collapse the new wall structure and the sentries would flock to help wounded comrades, or inspect the damage. With all the sentries moving in such a way, there would eventually be a weak spot. _This city isn't exactly like most other ones. Its not like we're trying to break out of Veldregin prison, but then again, it is our "great escape." Might as well make it something memorable…_

Shattering the beautiful Silence, came a loud crash. A massive plume of dust floated from a section of the collapsed wall several hundred meters away. Sentries flocked at incredible speeds, running as fast as they could to the downed section. Lights went up all through out the city. Shaddarra scrambled up the side of the wall, and as he landed on the top, a sentry ran by, noticing Shaddarra to late. With a sickening crunch, Shaddarra slammed his elbow into the man's throat. The sentry fell to his knees and hit the ground hard. All of the muscles in his body were tense at first, but then, they went limp. _That's another one I've killed…_

Shaddarra ran to the other side of the wall and clambered over the edge and began his descent. Within minutes, he was at the bottom. He scanned the area and to his surprise, there were no guards in the woods or the lake. _Very sloppy, how did a fool like Barradon ever become the Duke? _Shaddarra silently sprinted at incredible speeds to the rendezvous point. With the body of an athlete, Shaddarra was easily able to achieve a speed of about four and a half leagues per hour **(1).** He was easily able to out run guards and many runners at a young age, and as he grew older, his speed only began to increase as he constantly put his body to the limits. In twenty minutes, he reached the rendezvous point. He wasn't even remotely close to perspiring. Waiting there, sitting on a rock, leaned against a tree, and with a look of complete look of boredom on his face sat his brother. "You took your time…" muttered Sharquin. "Shut up, I never was as fast as you," shot back Shaddarra. Wordlessly they donned their packs, filled with gold and supplies they pilfered from the fortress. They ran towards the north at a break neck pace.

They didn't bother making camp, unlike humans, they didn't tire as easily. Before long, rather than running, they began taking long leaps. They covered much ground that night, and two hours later, the sun was already rising. _We took a lot of time just getting out, now all we have to do is distance ourselves from that pit of a town._ Shaddarra was beginning to feel his feet ache, but it was only beginning. _So this is what it feels like to be physically tired…_ Unlike this situation, most operations Shaddarra and his brother worked in were only one nighters. They never lasted too long, and so, Shaddarra had NEVER felt tired before. _Its an interesting sensation. _Whether he realized it or not, it would be only be another few hours before he really started feeling the true form of tired. The most he had ever pushed himself at was increasing his speed, and even at that, he never truly felt tired because he only reached the physical limits of speed, strength, flexibility and such. He had never been able to test his endurance.

The day was just beginning as Shaddarra and Sharquin made their way through the land, not following the roads in order to avoid other travelers. As the hours went by the moon was finally in full view, and the sun was making its way into the sky. _I hate it when it's like this. Give me a night of light and dark any day. As of now, it's all dark. …_ The moon streamed down a smooth light upon them. The air was cold, and the moon only gave them a small glimpse of what true beauty the night could behold. As the hours dragged along, they ran past a mainly dirt and rocky land along the road, leaving nothing but dust in their rapid wake. It finally came to the point where they reached the border of the land owned by Barradon. _Everything has happened so fast… It feels like this is just a dream… We've already escaped from that nightmare of a life, and now we're making our escape into our new lives. _

Shaddarra sat down next to Sharquin by a pool of water. The rocky and sandy landscape gave way to woodlands and grasslands. _I've always heard stories of such places, but I've yet to see the vast greeneries of the elves, now that will be a site to see! _Shaddarra dipped his hands in the cool water and splashed water across his face. He shook his head sending water in a fine mist around him. As he did so, a bird flew to the pool. As he looked at the bird, he felt an odd joy watching such a small form of life. He just felt like picking it up and taking it with him wherever he went. It looked so…. cute. Watching a little thing like that, as if it were his little brother or friend.

Removing their outer cloaks, hoods, and masks, they sat and stood still. As they looked up at the sky through the branches of the trees above, they could only wonder if there was some true purpose to their lives that hey had yet to find.

Twenty meters to the south, a leaf fell from a heavy branch. The air shimmered, and a figure materialized as if from thin air. The branch and the tree bark connected directly to it nearly exploded into flame, and was severely burned, charred black from an intense heat. The figure was breathing heavily. _Damn, I hope they didn't see that… I can't keep this up much longer. It takes too much energy to keep this up for such an extended time. Still, they are making much progress; I can only wonder how long it will take them to find us. _Taking a deep breath, the figure vanished once more, a faint thudding sound resounded through out the forest as an unseen figure sped away into the distance under the light of the moon.

**Author's Note **

Well, another update done… not much to it, but then again, I haven't gotten that many reviews, not much motivation to write it, plenty of other things going on etc. Either way, expect another update… someday…


	13. Prequel: Chapter V

**Author's Note**

**Another update, enjoy. Credits to Paolini for Eragon etc. I'll update ASAP but until then, please be patient, though I thank you because you have been extremely patient thus far. Sorry for the long update times, things have gotten... busier. **

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_A City of Beginnings_

The world was so confusing. The sky was black, and the land around was covered in flames. Black plumes floated up towards a dark sky, and there seemed to be rivers of life giving blood flowing, its source to his back. Looking to his right, he saw in his hand a sword, magnificently crafted, razor sharp, made of black metal, its edge was sheen gold however… and it was covered in blood. Looking to his hand left was a second blade. A white golden light flowed from it, bathing the entire area in its majestic glow. He looked forward, the black figure in front of him, wielding the blade of darkness, the being he either had to change or usurp. The man that caused the Great Imbalance. He was exhausted after fighting the being for so long. And then, the whisper of the enemy came. "We've fought for too long, and our powers are long spent… we can only afford one more blow." … _What response should I give?_ _........ __No response is needed_. The golden, black blade was raised, and the final charge was nigh upon him. The sprint began, the wind blowing in his hair as he ran to his enemy, and as the dark figure ran towards him. They swung their blades, and the world exploded around him as they met in the middle of a burning and lost world.

Waking with a start, Shaddarra sat silently, breathing heavily. Sleeping through the entire day so as to journey during the night, Shaddarra quickly went to the pool several meters away, washed his face, and donned his "night clothes." Looking into his eyes in the pool, he wondered what his destiny would be. _Should I tell Sharquin about the dream? …No, it is irrelevant, simply a dream. It means nothing. _He let out a sigh, and stretched, twisting his back to an extent so that numerous snapping sounds occurred along his back accompanied by a stretched, less tense feeling. Upon return to the camp entrance, Sharquin strode past him to the pool, acknowledging him with a nod. Shaddarra returned the nod, and strode over to his bed sheet. He quickly folded it up, and placed the thin sheet into the pouch that was situated on the strap that ran diagonally across his chest. Gathering a knife that he placed by his resting place, as well as the short sword and situated them in various places along his body, the knife in another loop on the strap, and the sword belted on his back in a diagonal manner, the hilt protruding towards the right side of his shoulder. He took the knife and placed it in a leather loop at the base of the strap, ensuring that it was tight enough so that it would not fall out during the run or during his complex acrobatics, but loose enough to the point where he could draw it quickly, silently, and without resistance. Upon Sharquin's return, he found Shaddarra sitting equipped and nearly ready for the run.

Shaddarra donned the cloak, put on the hood on his inner "night clothes," put on the much larger hood of the cloak, and pulled on the mask that hid the lower half of his face, identity, and emotion. Shaddarra looked towards Sharquin, and found him with his inner clothes ready, sharpening a knife, and getting his equipment in order. It annoyed Shaddarra that he took so long to prepare himself, where as Sharquin had returned, and in nearly half the time that Shaddarra required, had clothed himself, and nearly finished preparing the equipment. _Will I ever achieve that fast, mechanical, efficient way of moving? _Within another minute, Sharquin had donned his cloak and was ready to leave. They didn't need any food. Unlike other life forms, they tired less easily, though there were always whispers that other beings, such as the elves or demons known as the Shades, were faster, stronger, and possessed an endurance that any human would covet. Luckily for them, they weren't exactly human, but nevertheless, it did make them wonder how well they would fair against beings that would be their equals, or superiors in combat. How long would they last in a fight?

As the sprint continued, Shaddarra vaulted along in a rather joyous manner. The night was young, they had escaped, and they were finally on there way to discover who they were. Sharquin however, simply went along. There was no particular enthusiasm to his leaps, however there was no sagging or any sluggish motion. It was just simple long monotonous strides that traversed in a perfectly mechanical fashion. One time, long ago, he questioned his brother about such a movement, and as if confused or as if the answer was obvious, Sharquin simply replied, "It is the most efficient." Shaddarra never truly understood that, but then again Sharquin was much older than him. Perhaps it was simply something that developed as one grew? Or was it something that was simply individual to him, or was it a combination of both? In any case, whatever worked for Sharquin, worked for Shaddarra, and over time, he became much like his brother.

The minutes dragged on, and soon, as the night plunged into its deepest hours they came upon what they were searching for. The glow was seen from behind the hill itself. The land around it was lowered as if the very god's looked upon that one place. Aratvia, the oldest known city of humans, set a blaze with thousands of torches, shining with the light reflecting steel armor of hundreds of guards patrolling the city. Banners hung from the top buildings representing the properties of nobles, while the ground was covered in the shadow of the behemoths above. The normal level of walking was already several stories above the ground on a platform, and the ground itself was beneath layers of roads and stone levels. When one walked into the city, a person would have to traverse up the ramp that led to the middle stage. Once they were within the walls, they would travel down to the ground level via stairs and the new, more recent invention, an elevation cab. Buildings towering over the ground, stone bridges connecting them, a many meters above the ground, forming a maze in the sky. "Perfect, don't you think?" came Sharquin's quiet whisper. "Indeed," came the swift reply. "I can just imagine it myself. Leaping from one bridge to the next, concealed within the shadows of bridges above us. Guards everywhere, but can they ever match our blades? Is this the city from which we transform the land's state into one of a perfect peace?" Sharquin looked on. Though the mask covered the lower part of his face, Shaddarra knew that a grin was behind it. His eyes were lit from the glow that emanated from the city. The glow was soft unlike the harsh rays of the sun, and it left a faint light in Sharquin's eyes that oddly made Shaddarra think about what his brother had in store for them. "Yes Shaddarra, this is where we make our stand in this world. We'll operate in the shadows, a force that none can see save for those we choose to be rewarded with a glimpse of our plans. Together, you and I will create a world of peace that we can all live in. Not a world of uncertainty, where one is frightened of unknown beings hiding in a forest miles away. We'll make this world peaceful, and we shall bring it into a glorious era of prosperity that none can forget. " As the minutes passed by after staring at the city, they began the slow trek forward. The city itself was larger than Lithvoten, the commiserable town that they just left.

Considering the fact that it was the oldest city built by humans, it was the epitome of all aspects of humanity. Art, literature, economics, and politics. Whatever the era, Aratvia would never fall. Whether it would be broken by the siege of enemy conquerors, or whether it would simply vanish in the face of natural disaster, Aratvia would be a magnificent city and simply irreplaceable. Its value would be something that would transcend the ages. In any case this was the city that they chose to build everything from. As they slowly walked forward, they experienced on odd feeling. The darkness around them gradually faded into the light that emanated from the city in front of them. "How do we get in?" asked Shaddarra. The Silence continued for a moment, and then the reply came. "Our entrance is once again something that must remain unseen. Our presence in the city must be kept a secret - " But before Sharquin could finish, there was a swift whistle in the air and the clang of steel. Both Shaddarra and Sharquin were immediately crouched low to the ground. A lance impaled itself into the ground several feet away. Sharquin crouched with a blade in his hand, the blade that he used to deflect the lance. _If I hadn't noticed that monstrosity flying at me, things could've gotten really... messy,_ thought Sharquin, _the clans are indeed on the move for them to be this close to Aratvia. _Twenty horseman thundered towards them from the front while a line of men brandishing simple short swords advanced on them from the left. A single soldier carrying no weapon and only a shield was the one that Sharquin assumed had thrown the weapon at him. "Lets go back towards the path from the wood," whispered Sharquin. "if they continue to follow, we'll take care of them inside the forest. They may outnumber us but we possess stealth and the skills necessary to defeat them." Sharquin needed no reply as Shaddarra was already sprinting back into the woods. There was the sound of sharp twangs and arrows peppered the ground behind them only to fall short of their speed. Within seconds they were safely within the forest. They quickly sprinted towards the stronger trees in the area and hid underneath the strong branches to avoid being cut down by the steady rain of arrows.

The arrows cut through hundreds of branches, leaves split in half and the animals in the area were either dead, dying, or forced to flee as their homes were destroyed. Within seconds, the waves of annihilation stopped crashing down and Shaddarra and Sharquin safely dropped down from their perches. They were quickly hidden with their dark clothes and the long shadows created by the streams of moon light shining through the rent canopy of the forest above. The lights created long shadows from the tree trunks which in turn allowed Shaddarra and Sharquin to move with ease thanks to the many shadows created by the trees still standing. As they sprinted, not a single noise was made by them. All of their weapons, all of their equipment, their entire beings were purely silent as they sprinted along the trails. "What now?" whispered Shaddarra. "We find a good spot and wait for their patrols. If they are at least moderately experienced men of war, then they would have at least sent several groups of men to confirm their "kills." Shaddarra nearly grinned. _It won't be our bodies they'll find unfortunately..._ As Shaddarra looked around, he was dismayed to find the wild life in the state that they were in - either dead or dying. He looked around him and spotted a small bird, and to his grief stricken horror, he saw that it was the same bird that he had seen in the woods earlier. The tears started to fall. He cried silently and with a single movement he gently picked up the hatchling and removed the piece of the arrow head that was still lodged in its small body. He smoothly removed all of the stone pieces without harming the bird while inserting small herbs into the wound that situated itself from the top of the head down along the spine. _If it dies, at least it dies painlessly._ As he watched the little creature, the tears continued to fall. Its small chest heaved in and out as it breathed heavily. Shaddarra couldn't bear to watch. The light brown body that was once full of life was now fading before his very eyes. _No! I cannot let it end like this!_ Shaddarra inserted the herbs immediately numbing the pain. The heaving chest slowly died down to strained gasps that were never the less full of life. He tucked the tiny creature into the pocket in his chest and allowed to bathe in the warmth of his body while protecting it from the cold night air.

As Shaddarra looked towards Sharquin, he saw his "emotionless" face. Though it was nearly perfect, able to fool anyone, Shaddarra was able to see the pain deep within his eyes. "We must keep moving. The patrols are almost within the proper distance. We can easily take one of them down before the others are able to arrive in time to save them. " Shaddarra wordlessly arose and stood straight and tall looking beyond the tress with a cold and absolute resolve. "Let's go. We don't want to keep them searching for long." The two quickly sprinted, and using two fingers Sharquin pointed in the direction of one patrol and then smashed down a fist into an open palm. This signal only meant one thing, and though it was rarely used in their missions, the message was always clear and proved to them both how serious they were. Kill. One signal, one word.

Shaddarra sprinted through the bushes and shrubs faster than he had ever gone before. The trees streaked by him. Ahead was the patrol, bathing a clearing in the light of their torches. _What gave them the right to attack us? We did nothing towards them!_ The patrol was within clear sight. They stood in a square formation. A group of 10 clansmen stood around their commanding officer, the one riding the horse. _Eliminate the head and the body is useless._ Sprinting at an incredible speed, Shaddarra leaped over seven feet in the air straight into the clearing. He leaped over the shocked clansmen with both of his hands outstretched towards him. The man's eyes were wide with shock at the figure that appeared as if from The Shadows themselves. He slammed into the man, his right shoulder hitting him first which he followed by wrapping his arms around the man's waist. The image created? A formless shadow streaked out of the forest snatching the officer in its arms and vanishing as if it were never there all with one leap and never touching the ground of the clearing once. Horrifying one would say. More terrifying once the clansmen heard the impact against the ground over 30 feet away. They heard one cry, and then a metallic slash. They needed no other reason. They ran as quickly as they could from the forest.

_ Running are they? That just won't do. _Shaddarra pulled out a knife attached to a chain, one that was at least 20 feet long. The chain was coiled along his arm, hidden underneath the cloth, and the blade itself rested on the back of Shaddarra's hand with the flat side of the blade pressed against him. The blade was triangular shaped and possessed a single handle with room for one hand and a steel loop at the very end through which the chain was attached, just one of the many secret weapons Shaddarra possessed. He hadn't even shown Sharquin this weapon though he knew that Sharquin could easily find out if he desired. Shaddarra uncoiled a length of the chain and sprinted after them. He swung the blade in wide, low arcs cutting through the pathetically armored legs and muscle. The clansmen were forced to crawl back and even then Shaddarra picked them off one by one forcing the rest to hear their clansmens' screams of agony as they were dragged back into the darkness. Out of the 11 total in the patrol, 7 were dead. The rest Shaddarra allowed the rest to escape so that they would tell the rest of their clans of the terror in the forest. He checked his pocket and saw the little bird still alive, asleep, but alive. He sprinted back to the rendezvous point where he knew Sharquin awaited.

_ Man fears what it does not understand. What it cannot understand. Man fears the night because what is concealed in the darkness is concealed from their eyes and thus their perspective of the being is distorted and immediately placed in a state of fear. Man will learn to fear us. We are The Shadows and The Light. But through our actions we will teach them to respect what they do not understand. Whether they choose to accept it or not, mankind is firmly planted in an endless cycle of war over common views and individual desire. Desire itself is not wrong, however when that leads to conflict, the common and less desirable traits that are in man are seen more than in any other situation and men band together for meaningless fights over conflicts and issues that could've been easily avoided. Thus it is through OUR common desire that we shall break this endless cycle. We shall usher in a peace that will never be forgotten. Those that oppose it will be defeated from the inside out. Man shall be set up upon a pedestal that we shall control, and then, when mankind learns to govern itself, we shall leave them to their own fate and pursue our own. Then someday, someone will break the cycle out of his own will. Out of the strength of men, not the strength of another race. This is what we plan, it is what has always been in us. Something of an instinct I suppose. The unnecessary pain that we feel raging around us, it must end! We must be here for a reason, we are not humans, elves, or dwarves. Someday, man will achieve it's peace, we will find who we are as creatures above those around us and achieve a peace of our own and all that is hidden from The Shadows themselves shall be revealed and The Light shall shine upon all. Who knows, maybe we truly can create a world without conflict... what a dream...._

_Until that day, we fight on._

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**Author's Note**

**Sorry if it sounded cheesy. ^^**


	14. Part 1: Chapter X

**Author's Note**

**WOW. Ridiculously long time since my last update. I can't actually remember the last time I did update. Not even remotely. Finally got some free time after studying, had one set of exams already though with more to come. Credits to Paolini etc.

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Hero's Comeback

As Eragon listened to the invigorating story, he rose as the fantastically spun tale came to a close. Eragon got up from the cool tiles, and he shook a leg to get the blood flowing once again. The feeling came back to his leg faster than what was previously expected. _Faster blood flow?_ It didn't seem like much to him at first, however the he noted this, and simply stood as he looked towards his master. "Is that all you can tell me for now?" he questioned. "Unfortunately, I cannot remember," replied The Ancient One.

_ Really? Is there just something wrong with this guy?_ "The reason, as you are most likely wondering, is simply that when the Kuthians advanced through the ages, they developed sophisticated ways of efficiently erasing all traces of them. From both the physical plane and the mental one, they were efficiently forgotten. Of course however, there are the elves.... they had an unusually annoying knack of remembering these kinds of things where others would forget.

They also had some kind of strange paranoia about a race smarter, faster, and stronger than them which may attribute to why some elven families passed on the story of us by mouth. A thing we should be wary of when we return. Not all of the elves appreciated our presence in the real world, and thus, there has been some lasting...enmities I suppose.

"Oh wonderful, now I not only have to worry about Galbatorix, but certain elves as well? For your sake, the tradeoff had better be worth it." The Ancient One chuckled softly. _Even at your strongest, you will have much trouble if you ever had to face me...._

The golden and dark skies of the twilight that draped across the land swirled violently as the winds of the unknown world swept across the land. "As I was mentioning before, the secrets of the Kuthians are very important in the sense that those who can discover them can become very powerful through the secrets our leader re-discovered. Both humans and elves alike can grow more powerful, more so for otherworld races that are much more powerful, though that is something to discuss for another time. There is no doubt in my mind that Galbatorix is seeking them to this moment. These secrets will enable Galbatorix to spread his power further across Alagaesia. Whether it is controlling something from far away, or simply observing. We must not allow him to be able to be omniscient. This is something we cannot allow even at great cost to us.

"Galbatorix is more powerful than any Rider the Kuthians have ever encountered. In the past he has manipulated more than just people and magicians to do his bidding. You have seen him manipulate the Raz'ac. The Kuthians have seen him manipulate time, the weather, and elements all across Alagaesia in our wars against him.

"In our last war, our leader was able to strike him at his very core, cutting down his power. For Galbatorix to spread his power across great distances requires him great amounts of time to grow in power. The from which he is spreading his strength is much larger than you think. By learning the secrets of the Kuthians, he can learn essential methods that can decrease the time it takes to increase his strength."

_He's already so strong, how am I supposed to beat him if he won't stop growing stronger?_

"In any case, Galbatorix is on the move. We cannot allow him to unlock the secrets of our race, and so we must return to Alagaesia where the secrets are hidden. These secrets can be artifacts and locations. We must reach them, and secure them."

_This isn't really going to work out... The Varden will be defeated by the time that happens. There wouldn't necessarily be a point in having a resistance against Galbatorix if it only consists of 3 people and a dragon..._

"As for assisting the Varden," _Of course... _"We will fight from the shadows. War is something the Varden must take care of themselves. As for us, we will move in the shadows, striking at what is unseen. We have three objectives. The first is the Varden's main problem as of the Battle of the Burning Plains." _Murtagh..._

"You must become powerful enough to defeat Murtagh. However, I do not expect you to do so through brute strength. To do so, you must learn the techniques that we use to manipulate energy. You will learn more of this as we continue our peregrination. Objective number two: Together, you and I will commence the systematic elimination of the Black Hand from the Varden as well as the various cities that the Varden must operate from. Sabotage is not something the Varden can afford at this stage. The armies of the Varden must regroup, re-equip themselves, and above all, recuperate. This brings us to our third objective. The Varden will require at least two to three weeks to fully re-organize. Considering Galbatorix's various methods of influence, I doubt his army would keep him waiting for too long."

"So you're saying that we need to stall Galbatorix's army? For two weeks?"

"No, we'd be lucky if we got two weeks. We should be focusing on about three."

_This guy is insane_

"As unlikely as this may seem, we will accomplish this task. Riders accomplish what seems to be impossible. We accomplish the transcendental. In any case, have I misled you yet?"

"No, I suppose you haven't. Although before we actually stall his army, we have to actually GET to Alagaesia, wouldn't you agree? I'm sure you have a plan for that. Or have I placed my life in the hands of a person who can't think three or four steps ahead of himself?"

"Where is all this coming from?! I have a way to get back. However, we'll need to get outside the tower."

"There is no need for us to wait Master. Let's go!" Turning around, Eragon led them to the gates of platform. He stopped at the door and it swung soundlessly open and they strode into the circular room connected to the hallway through which Eragon met his Master many years before. As they entered the room, the gate shut behind them, and Eragon turned. The Ancient One looked back at him, a glowing sphere of light in his hand. He walked to the center of the room and the sphere of light adopted a darker tone rather than its pure white one. It continued to darken until it was a plain gray orb. Out of the orb, small tendrils extended towards Eragon.

At first he stiffened at the sight of them, and then relaxed, knowing it could only benefit him if The Ancient One was providing it. The tendrils drew closer. They were thin and sharp, unlike the blunt large ones that his mind consisted of. One of the tendrils drew near, and just before it came within grabbing distance, the gray expanded explosively. It enveloped him and he felt the tendrils wrapping itself around him. His armor was squeezed against him and the pressure felt incredible as it was applied across his entire body. As the pressure continued to increase, it increased incredibly along his feet. Then it slowly moved up along his body. First his shins, then his knees, his waist, followed by his torso. His entire face was slowly enveloped by the band of pressure until it passed as if a wave washed over him. The pain he had been feeling in his eyes for the last several weeks was still present and his body still felt slightly sore after repeated hours of training.

But as he arose from the floor from which he had collapsed, he noticed that there was no weight on him. Has my armor been destroyed? He couldn't see anything. As the pressure completely vanished after the enormous wave, Eragon could feel his body again. However, he could not feel the heavy and rough armor he had worn for so long. He brought his hands up to his face and found that it was covered in thick cloth. The cloth were began from his forehead and was wrapped around the entire head, but came down at an angle to avoid covering the ears. It covered him from his forehead to about his mid-neck. Upon closer inspection, he felt a hood on his head. Not too loose, but not too tight either. His head was completely covered. On his body were clothes instead of steel, clearly made of cloth instead of the metal he was so used to feeling. However by the feel of it, it was much tougher than any cloth he had felt before, but it still maintained a much lighter weight.

He felt his hands and noticed that they too were wrapped in a type of cloth. However unlike the rest of his body, these were somewhat heavier. His legs, rather than heavy boots of steel, were encased in a much lighter boot that went up about half of his calves. "What's all this?" Eragon asked.

"The condition of your body is one that is changing. The difference between this world and your world is very great. You may be fast here, but your world is made of very similar elements. The makeup of the worlds are therefore similar as well as the structure, however our physics are very different. You will once again experience the sensation of rediscovering your body. Your eyes above all must be protected. They are going through a very important developing process. They will soon be greater tools than you can possibly imagine. For now, you will have to use your mind to keep track of what's around you. Because the other world is much simpler in comparison to this one despite the similarities, you will be able to see a bit farther than you can right now. Far away details unfortunately will be impossible to discern. What will be possible at long range however, is your ability to see life in the form of pinpricks of light. We will be returning to Du Weldenvarden, however considering the fact that it's a forest, your vision of life might be near useless. You might even be temporarily blinded and I'd have to guide you around. How does that make the great returning hero feel?"

" In any case, we will be performing various exercises in order to increase the accuracy of your physical sight. We will be going through several sessions of tests after we enter your world. One of my favorite exercise is the geometrical one. You will be shown gems. These gems will have various cuts and thus will have many facets, corners, edges etc. Your test will be simply to tell us how many sides there are on the gem as well as its corners and edges. There are twists to it however. Sometimes the gem will be placed in various positions. Perhaps far away, perhaps hidden, or cut so poorly that the number of sides are almost indiscernible. This is what awaits your training. You are physically ready for your world, however we must further train your mind and your mental dexterity. Also, when you fight, you will be using your hands primarily. I will likewise be doing the same. Other than a small knife, or several throwing knives, you will have to learn how to fight in melee combat unarmed. Though by now your body is your weapon as promised, no?"

Eragon grinned under the cloth that masked his face. _Still, I wonder what I look like._ As they turned and walked towards the hall, Eragon felt a feeling of joy. He now had even more strength to fight Galbatorix with. However, one thing bothered him. _Eragon said he was the master of time in this world. However, even if he could slow down time, I've been here for several years now! Does he honestly believe that he can get be back to the exact moment I came to this world? _

As if reading his thoughts, "This section of my world is different than the rest. Our world progresses at a faster rate than yours by a factor of almost two-hundred. This is as a result of the different positioning of planets, speeds of revolutions, rotations, etc. This means that one minute over in your world equals about three hours here. However, the rule continues for every unit of time taking no note of what should be according to mathematics. One day in your world is equivalent to almost thirteen years over here. You've been gone for much time according to you and me. However, there is something special about this specific area. Through the arts of the Kuthians, an area's processes, whether natural or not, is increased in speed by a factor of one thousand. This is also taking place in our world, where time is increased by two hundred. Thus the increase of one-thousand is one-thousand times faster than two hundred. This means that we are currently living and moving two hundred-thousand times Alagaesia's speed. Meaning in this specific section of my world, one minute of your time is equal to approximately sixty-years here. You haven't even been here for sixty years, only about twenty years. And so, you have been gone for roughly twenty seconds in your world. I doubt that you're that hard pressed for time, however I'm not exactly savvy with what goes in your world anymore.

"In any case, once we return to the gateway, time will once again begin to pass normally when we begin the shift from this world to yours. So then, shall we begin?" asked The Ancient One. "Well, sooner or later we'll have to," replied Eragon with a smile. They turned and they began walking down the hallway. As they reached the end, Eragon walked through the frame of bricks, progressing slowly as he had yet to become accustomed to his new vision. He strode forward and reached the edge of the platform that led to the stairs below. "You took several hours the first time, let's see how long it takes the second." Eragon felt the presence and looked to his left to see the glowing body of his master within his mind. However, there was a quick sound of disturbed air, and his master vanished without a single trace. When peering over the edge of the platform, he saw an infinitesimal orb of light at the very bottom of the tower. _Meh, show off. _

Though he couldn't see very well, Eragon now relied on the eye of his mind to see what his normal eyes could not. He could see the physical dimensions of objects for up to a maximum of four and half meters away. _If that is the case, then grabbing the handles on the stair cases will have to be done in a split second. If I allow myself to miss too many at a time, I might seriously hurt myself while diving down the middle of the tower._ Without a moment's hesitation, Eragon leaped into the middle of the tower. He fell a good 25 feet before he grabbed a handle, and when he did, he immediately noticed the difference. Before, his body was practically smashed to pieces when it hit the side of the stair case. Now, he simply landed smoothly, able to completely stop his momentum the moment he grabbed the small handles. Because of this new advantage, Eragon was able to be in constant motion and consistently switch his direction on the spot without having to stop himself from continuing the old motion.

Within in under a minute, he reached the bottom of the tower. With only the sound of a silk scarf falling onto a velvet quilt, Eragon landed on the ground smoothly. His eyes felt sore and his ears hurt slightly because of the rapid change in pressure. After several moments, the pain faded away. Eragon looked with his mind's eye around him, and to his annoyance, he found the orb of light at least a mile away. _He's already gotten to the end of that hallway. I swear he's rubbing that whole speed thing in my face. _

Eragon broke off into a run, running faster than he was able to before. He reached the beginning of the enormous hallway, and thought back to his first walk through it. He wondered if he was still prepared for whatever he may face as he traveled through it, and then banished the thought. _Considering my powers, I won't let anyone stand in my way. _He continued his sprint and without incident. Without incident, he reached the end of the hallway. To his satisfaction, the orb of light hadn't left the end. His master's voice came to him once again. _We must now proceed to the same place that you arrived to this world in. There is another way to enter your world, however you probably aren't ready for something such as that. Also, that method is particularly… dramatic. For example, if we were to use that entrance, more than half of Alagaesia would know of our arrival. We might be able to use that to our advantage later on. In any case let's move on. _

Striding forward, the two reached the massive elevation device Eragon used when he first arrived many years ago. Without warning, the elevator began its descent into the mist of floating particles. Eragon felt an odd twinge of fear as he still did not know what beings lived in the world. And being so close to the wall of mist disturbed him as he could not see through it all. His mind only saw a wall of mist, nothing more. The only thing he could see was the orb of light that was his master and a faint section that was darker which was the path they walked on.

Unexpectedly to Eragon, he stepped on a section of the path that was lower than the rest. _This must be the platform where I entered this world. _"Are you ready Eragon?" Eragon looked to his master, and smiled underneath the cloth. "Of course, shall we go?" As Eragon braced himself, he felt a gentle breeze from below him. But as another second went by, the breeze accelerated into a storm of wind. It took Eragon another half-second to realize that he was falling. _I must be moving incredibly fast for this much air to be rushing by. Even when I jumped off of Saphira back at the Burning Plains, there was not this much distance to fall._

As Avlan walked through the forest, his ears picked up many sounds, the birds chirping and the serene world of the Elven Woods. Although this was a peaceful moment in time, lulled to a peace by the beautiful sky and the frolicking animals, something was still amiss. The wind seemed to be picking up, and the light that streamed down from the branches was darkening at a faster pace than the setting sun. The wind continued to steadily increase in speed.

Several miles away…

_Who is this man?! This is not the same person I was bonded to! What is this connection that slowly comes back to me?!_ Saphira streaked towards what was remotely the forest center, towards the Menoa tree. All of a sudden, through the now shadowed skies, a single bolt of lightning struck down into the forest… except the lightning was black and gold. The bolt tore down through skies, super heating the air and expanding it creating the loudest explosive sound that was heard in the forest in many years. The skies and weather were only traces of the power that could be unleashed when two words connected. At the base of the Menoa Tree, one of the massive roots had split open and a light seemed to flow forth from the inside of the tree. Stepping forth from light came two figures, two beings that would change the world.

Looking up to the darkened skies, Eragon smiled. _Its been so many years since I've come here. Something around 2000! The forest has grown so much in my absence. I can't say I miss it more than this young one beside me. He must miss his dragon a lot. I remember when Althalos and I flew amongst the growing trees…_

"Eragon," whispered The Ancient One, "Saphira is not aware of who you are! Before she arrives we must quickly get away from this area. We can explain everything in full later on to them, but we cannot allow contact with many as of now. From using your mind… I'm sure you already know how to hide it and the connection." Eragon was taken a back from the prospect of being separated again from Saphira, although having spent so much time away from her, he felt he could wait some more. Silently they sprinted out of the area, their dark clothing hid them as they merged from shadow to shadow undetected by the animals and even the elves. For some odd reason however, he felt he would be meeting with several companions. It felt odd, for though emotion and intuition could guide you into some future event, it hardly ever provided such a specific thought. After stopping in a small clearing, Eragon then realized where they were. The Ancient One had somehow managed to get them to Oromis' hut without being spotted or using the usual paths formed by animals or elves. "Wait here Eragon, I must speak with an old friend of mine…" Without saying another word, The Ancient One walked away.

Still three miles away, Saphira roared in frustration, anger, and annoyance that the connection faded away. With a shout of her mind she yelled, "Eragon! I know not what game you are playing, but you had better have an explanation!"

The mental shout reached Eragon and instead of forcing him to think about what he should say, he instead lingered upon the pleasant sound of her voice. Eragon sat on the stump and looked with the eye of his mind. He was not surprised that the world around him was lit aglow with the sheer mass of life. Unlike the particles in the other world however, the life in this world was more defined.

_It feels good to be back. _He felt the wind rushing against his body, except it was not harsh like the winds of the other world. Though he was fully covered from head to toe in clothing including his face even, he could still feel the gentle breeze and the growing sense of life that permeated through everything. His mind's vision was more clear in this world He could see the finer aspects of everything no matter how small. He could see almost as if he was viewing the world normally. The only difference was that everything was viewed through their silhouettes from light within. Trees had a slight glow where as living creatures that moved in real time had a brighter glow. Amongst all this were what seemed to be curtains of light. Some more powerful than others, and yet all draped around the forest. _I wonder what those could be. I'll have to ask… they're beautiful…_

Within a moment, everything seemed to change, the glow that the world gave off seemed to dim, the wind seemed to blow even harder, and Eragon felt cold inside of his very soul. Without warning, an arrow shot at Eragon from between the trees originating at least a good bow shot and a half away. The sharp sound it made gave it away, and the fact that Eragon saw with his mind's eye the sharp partition in the air being made by the arrow. The sound given off, unlike it would have before his training, seemed to echo as Eragon's mind was able to perceive it faster than before. Eragon braced himself and thinking for a fraction of a nanosecond, he made his decision to deflect the arrow.

However, the arrow was imbued with a magic that Eragon had never seen before, and the temperature of the air suddenly increased. The arrow glowed with a power of its own, an aura that seemed different than the others. _Even if it is an arrow, it is easily moving faster than it normally should…_ _it still isn't fast enough to keep up with me however. But is it the magic that is allowing it to move faster? _Already prepared, Eragon sent the signal to move his arm. Because his mind was faster, time seemed slower, and Eragon had not yet slowed his mind down to what it previously was. However, he could not change how fast his body could move and because his mind sent commands faster than the body moved, Eragon had to consciously send the message from his mind, just as if he were ordering a soldier to shoot an arrow within a seconds notice. **(1)**

The light that was formed by the life around Eragon now possessed a streak through which the arrow had passed. Annoyed that the beauty of the forest was being tampered with, Eragon waited for the arrow to come closer. Though the arrow was a good one, and the shooter skilled to be able to even make it towards Eragon through the trees and distance, it still failed to hold its own against Eragon's even quicker reflexes. He simply swatted it aside. Then the unexpected happened. As soon as Eragon hit the arrow head, an explosion ensued. The explosion enveloped Eragon, and sent a shockwave through the forest. There was nothing left but a charred black mound where Eragon once stood.

Ten meters above the forest floor...

_What the hell was that?! As useful as a weapon it may be, I don't think now is the time to inspect it. It is amazing… although it would be beneficial to understand that I'm being attacked right now. I doubt now is the time to be standing in awe of it._ With that, Eragon waited for the person to make their next move. He could sense the unsure emotions and the possibility of fear in the attacker. Eragon had a wide smile under his clothed face. The attacker stayed in place however Eragon noticed that a drape just like the other ones Eragon had seen slowly made its way towards the area. All of a sudden as if sensing his presence, it became rigid. It drew closer and closer. As it came extremely close it suddenly lunged at him… at the speed of thought.

In one single moment Eragon finally understood what the floating shrouds were. What Eragon could actually see was a physical manifestation of the minds of others! _This is indeed a great tool and weapon. I think I can counter this very easily now that I know how to fight with my mind. Even if this I'm not experienced in such a technique, I'm sure it cannot be too hard. _ From within Eragon, came his own field of thought. Though the other one was extremely bright compared to the others, Eragon's outshone this one brilliantly. The mind attacked Eragon, but Eragon leapt away, reducing the field that his mind covered to the most minimal it could be. The blue aura that was Eragon's mind was now only within a centimeter of Eragon's skin. _It'll probably take some time at this rate for that person to find me, time to strike._

The enemy dropped low to the ground sensing, waiting, and watching. After all of his training, Eragon was now able to attack at extremely high speeds and within a second, unleashed a barrage of strikes against the enemy's mind using Eragon's newly and further enhanced mind. The figure was so shocked by the barrage that the person fell to the ground writhing in pain at the instantaneous assault on their mind. _That should teach them a lesson. But I may have overdone it… I did unleash quite a bit of damage, and within an instant too. _Eragon strode forward and grabbed the person, but before Eragon could turn the figure over to discover the identity of his attacker, a sudden buffet of wind tore through the trees. Looking up, Eragon saw a dazzle of bluish and gold auras and the reflections of thousands of rays of light. Seeing the world through his mind's eyes, Eragon saw the silhouette of beautiful beings, their light shining as bright as his own. _I'm finally able to see them again…_

_The Dragons…

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**Author's Note**

**Well, another chapter finished. My school ends in 11 days. Once summer begins, you can be sure it won't take several months just to publish another chapter. It's good to be back. **

**Twilight S.**

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(1) Don't forget that Eragon's mind is now faster than before. Just as our minds form a thought, sends a message to the body part, and forces the body to move/react, Eragon must do the same. However, we do this purely by instinct now. Because the speed of Eragon's mind is much faster than before, he must consciously make the message himself rather than relying on instincts to move. Just as The Ancient One mentioned, Eragon will now have to re-learn movement.  
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	15. Part 1: Chapter XI

**Author's Note**

**My next update, sorry I haven't updated in a while, so I tried making this one a bit larger than usual. Credits to Paolini for writing the story etc.

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The First Encounter

Looking up towards the massive creatures above him, Eragon remembered the days when he first met Saphira. Yet before he could react further, he wondered what the proper course of action should be considering the situation he found himself to be in. _I am an unknown being coming back to this world to a dragon I am connected to who doesn't know who I am. I have no doubt there is much to do before we can make our proper war effort. However considering the more stealth based nature of what is before us… I doubt having a dragon around will be of much assistance to us… it might even be a liability. _The blue silhouetted dragon came closer to him, its breathe heavy on the entire area surrounding him.

_Who are you?! _Saphira yelled with her mind. But before she could say anything else, the man before her did something she didn't expect, something she never expected considering the waves of energy that seemed to emanate from him, energy that seemed to be hidden before she saw the explosion that ripped apart the area moments before. Without a moment's hesitation, without even requiring the need to build up speed, the man ran. He ran with a speed that the elves would have envied. Within moments he was gone.

It took Saphira a full second to realize what had just happened and with a mighty roar, she gave chase. She could barely see him - his body weaved in and out of the trees blending in the shadows in a way she had never seen before. The chase led through the darkening forest, through the shadowy trees, and slowly towards a massive waterfall that was close to the heart of Du Weldenvarden. Saphira was flying only several feet above the tops of the trees, at a breakneck pace. However, the man was always somehow ahead of her.

_I never thought I could actually out-sprint Saphira. But then again, I am also cutting left and right. Not like running a straight line… In any case, I should probably end this soon, it wouldn't bode well for us to waste time. _Reaching the river and waterfall, Eragon stopped and turned, the edge of the waterfall behind him, a dragon in front. Saphira stopped in front of him, the air blown from her wings sending massive ripples across the water's surface. Eragon smiled under his cloth mask and gave a wave. With a leap Eragon plummeted down the edge of the waterfall and towards the waters below. He broke through the water's surface and reached the bottom of the pool. As a result of Eragon's new abilities, his lungs were exponentially powerful than his old ones.

He stayed at the bottom of the river, locking his feet underneath the rock bed. He cloaked himself, pulling back the veil of his mind into the very core of himself. He saw the massive veil above the waters that was Saphira's mind as it searched and smiled. She_ has truly grown strong…_ _But I'm never going to get out of here at this rate… Maybe I could make a section of my mind like I did when using a weapon, but what if I used it differently. _Adrenaline pumped through Eragon's veins as he considered a new possibility. Using his mind to create another branch he poured his strength into it, so that it would not simply shatter and fade when he broke it off. Looking at its design, it was very similar to the core of what his mind originally structured as, though no where near its complexity. _Thought its far from perfection, Saphira hasn't gotten a feel of the depth of my mind, but the general feel of this empty shell is similar to my own._ With a mental shove, he sent the replicated mind flying towards the West.

_Come on! Take it! _Eragon's cunning and wit was rewarded as the dragon suddenly sped after the faintly fading shell. Eragon waited underneath the water for almost a full hour before resurfacing. He burst through the water's surface with a gasp. _If my hunch is right, Saphira will have followed it far enough for me to get away. But I wonder if she will actually realize it was a fake when it fades away… or will she think I simply cloaked my mind as I did before?_ As the tip of Eragon's robes broke the water's surface, he noticed something. In front of him was a very familiar orb of light. "Hello master, having a pleasant stroll in the woods?"

_He sees me and that's all he could come up with? How… indescribably…………………… ugh._

"Yes well, your time seems to have been… eventful. In any case, we have a new heading. For now we are to travel to Dras Leona." Stunned at the sudden desire to move, Eragon began to protest.

"But master, what about Oromis, I mean I must see him again, or at least speak with him. "

"I have already spoken with Oromis," The Ancient One replied. "He understands the situation you are in and I assure you, you will see him once again."

Having all of his arguments beaten down, Eragon gave up the fight and simply followed The Ancient One. As they walked through the trees Eragon began to wonder what their goal could possibly be at Dras Leona. Recalling that it was in the early afternoon that he had left for the otherworld, Eragon now noticed that it was soon to be night within several more hours. "Master, should we stop to make camp somewhere?" The Ancient One replied in a questioning tone. "Are you tired Eragon?" The question took him by surprise and Eragon quickly replied, "No master, but normally we would stop by night and travel by day."

The Ancient One smiled. "Eragon, we are above such things. We tire less easily than even the elves and our vision has greatly improved to the point where we can see straight through the darkness, although yours could use a little work... We can travel by night as well. Believe me, you will be surprised at your body's new capabilities. Considering that however, you will have to re-assess what you can and cannot do. For example, what you did back by the waterfall. I must admit that only the higher level students have ever managed to accomplish such a task as that at such an early stage – that is the forming of an arvadent - though I have seen it done sooner.

"An arvadent master?"

"Yes, an arvadent is a shell of a mind formed from our own, although there is a much easier way to make one rather than what you did. However the concept is the same. You will learn many more things in the time to come.

"Dras Leona will serve as the testing ground in order to test your new abilities. We will also act towards liberating Dras Leona from its rulers that Galbatorix has installed. You must also contact the Varden and convince them to be ready to take over the city."

"But Master, what about the Varden's current position? How will they be prepared to attack Dras Leona when they aren't even ready to face Galbatorix's army?" Smiling The Ancient One shocked Eragon. "That will be my task." The realization instantly hit Eragon as all the possible situations came to him and his assessment of ever single one pointed to one conclusion. "But that would mean I have to – "

"Free the city of Dras Leona yourself. As I said, this will be the testing ground for your powers. This will also train your mind to be ready for the tasks ahead. The Kuthians did not become the masters of Alagaesia simply through armies and brute strength. It was done through cunning, wit, and stealth never heard of before. Through that manner we shall free Alagaesia.

Before Eragon could say a word, The Ancient One interrupted. "We have already wasted some time speaking like this. We must press on. Keep running until you reach Leona Lake. Once you reach the lake, contact Nasuada and the Varden. I will go to the Burning Plains. Remember, this is a test of your abilities. I will not be the one to rescue you should things go wrong."

Without another word, he vanished. _Hmpf, he's probably halfway across Alagaesia by now… _Eragon discarded the thought and looking towards the south, he began to realize something. _How am I supposed to get to Leona Lake if I can barely even see forty feet in front of me?_

With a sigh Eragon began to walk in the direction he understood to be West. Recalling the map of Alagaesia, Eragon knew that he would have had to move towards the West and past the Hadarac Desert, Urû'baen, and all sorts of geographical barriers. _It would be much easier if I do so by going past Osilon, rather than through The Empire itself. From there, I'll have to go South, perhaps around the Ninor River, although I might have to enter Yazuac if I'm in need of supplies… I guess that sums it up_. As the night went along, he began to enjoy the clarity of the world around. Pinpricks of life where everywhere seen to him as light. It was a beautiful sight to behold within the dark.

The minutes seemed to drag on with his fast mind as he was able to think on a much faster level than before. The pine wood scent wafted from all around him as the peace of Du Weldenvarden sharpened his mind to a razor, and his thinking to a blade. He felt as if he could think more clearly than ever before. The path he walked through the forest was unknown to him. He often strayed from the path in order to avoid even the animals considering their memories could be exploited by the elves if for whatever reason he was being followed. His stealth was paralleled by only the most balanced elves, his Silence filled his mind as he consciously took one step at a time, and understood that there was not even a single sound. He felt incredible. _Is this what a true hunter feels like? Undetected by no being, free to take whatever action restricted by nothing but ability…_ It was an odd feeling. He also felt alone. As time went by, Eragon felt more aware of all the beings around him. The various animals, their speed, their sounds, their location, everything seemed to be something that was now able to be gauged by Eragon's abilities, his speed, his strength… his Silence. _I'm starting to see why the Kuthians were something of an unnamable fear. The sheer in-ability to see what lies hidden in the dark… it is frightening. _ _The power and advantage that is gained simply by not being seen… or known…_

Eragon's thoughts were interrupted by the slow change in the ground. There was less plants and vegetation. _Less to be hidden with…_ Slowly wondering how he should approach this situation of being found by something, an idea slowly formed in Eragon's mind. _The trees are very old, and big… I'm sure they can support my weight…_ Climbing one of the trees to a mid-height, Eragon was hidden from the ground by the thicker pine branches, but still remained low enough from the tops so that he was still hidden from the sky. Eragon braced himself mentally within a fraction of a second, and leaped to the next tree. The branches came to him slowly as his mind perceived everything much faster than what was normal and he easily considered how he was to land on the branches. However, as he made his landing, he cursed the sound produced. _Damn! I might as well just start running into trees… Pine trees won't work. Others would… but this isn't the right part of the forest._ Climbing down from the tree, he brushed off the pine needles he felt on his body.

Before it would have been slightly harder to do so because of the needle's light weight on the cloth, yet his entire body seemed to be more sensitive to the physical world. Eragon continued walking and began wondering how he was to contact Nasuada when he got to the lake.

As he walked through the thinning trees he stopped suddenly and recognized where he was. He was very close to the edge of the massive forest, and very close to the Elves that frequently patrolled their borders, watching and waiting for an attack from the Empire that would someday come. Eragon sat on the ground and with his mind's eye, he spread out his consciousness and looked for the patrols that he knew could catch him off-guard if he wasn't careful.

_One to the East walking towards the East, another three coming from the West…. and two coming from the North… and their being followed by a dragon, how lovely… time to get moving! _ Eragon stood and frantically began sprinting towards what he saw to be the South. However, in his sudden rush from his hasty exit from the meditative trance, he lost his sense of direction as concentration was diverted from his mind's eye and he sprinted headlong into a tree. Correcting himself he only wondered what Brom would have said in that situation. Embarrassed, he began the long sprint in the proper direction, running towards the South West.

The minutes slowly went by. They shifted into an hour. The wind blew against him, sending his outer layers of clothing streaming behind him. As he ran, his physical body felt a wide range of feelings. It was as if he was a part of the very land itself, as if he was merged. The wind made him feel one with nature as he sprinted. The sheer sensitivity he felt to everything surpassed everything he felt even in his reborn Elf form.… He felt cursed.

_Though this land has been fought for by the people who live on it and value it … it is damned with that man on the throne… I can feel this feeling of destruction in my very soul_. His vision was starting to fade, yet he kept running. The corruption of the land disturbed him greatly. He always viewed Alagaesia as a beautiful place, a world that was rightfully theirs to live in. It was only now that he realized that restoring Alagaesia would take more than simply dethroning Galbatorix. _We would have to restore the very land… else we'll never live with a sense of ease…_

He understood now why this seemed to disturb him. The very structure of the other world, down to the core particles that made up everything, possessed a balance of both a light and dark nature. The feel of a particular particle could possess its own nature, as if it were a living person. A light one would be of a light nature and dark one of a dark nature and so forth.

_There is a great absence of the light nature… the dark permeates through everything… it seems as if there are few places it hasn't reached yet. I guess we'll just have to deal with it when we it comes to it. _The day was cloudy and dreary. It simply dragged on. Most journeys always seemed to have some sort of anticipation to an enormous event that must soon happen. However Eragon did not feel such a thing. He simply felt altogether horrible. Continuing the long sprint he felt within himself chaos. It seemed as if his emotions, his feelings, his way of thinking were conflicting.

_Are these changes also mental as well as physical?_ His physical eyes pained him as well, with sharp needle like sensations every once in a while as he ran. Considering how bad he already felt, it also didn't take long to realize that he was completely and utterly bored. With no one to talk to, he began to miss Saphira's company, or even The Ancient One's. Hour by hour, he made his progress, till eventually, he was rewarded by the sound of running water. The water was something different. After being used to watching the pinpricks of light flying, crawling, or simply being stationary, water was something he was still not used to. It appeared to him as if he was looking at flowing mercury. The silvery sheen was sometimes hard to spot amidst the glowing lights. Thankfully, after seeing a waterfall, Eragon was sure he could identify it at least. As he walked along the water's flowing edge he continued forward carefully in order to avoid being seen by travelers.

After another hour of trekking the rocky grounds carved out of the land by the once rapid water, Eragon finally reached his destination. Leona Lake. At first he did not see it coming though he felt he finally understood how to sense water, hence the reason he fell into it as soon as he got near. As he pulled himself out of the water, very annoyed at this point, he stood up looking outward over the massive body water and realized that the still water was also completely still in the view of his mind's eye. Unlike other forms of water that Eragon had seen, this was the only one that was not in motion. It was an amazing sight to see, a sea of silver. Eragon used his mind and began to move the air around him in a vortex of wind, blowing leaves, rocks, pebbles, and dirt in all directions as Eragon quickly dried himself.

Eragon slowly made his way up the embankment and found himself on the gravel path that led to Dras Leona. Memories of Brom flitted through his mind and visually appeared in front of him because of his mind's eye, making it seem as if he were watching the memory rather than simply remembering it. Eragon immediately choked down any forms of sadness and continued, sprinting once again. But despite all the years of training his mind, both amongst the elves and amongst the Kuthians, he could not fight back the tears that dampened the cloth that masked his face. The memories continued to flow into him.

His first moments with Saphira, his early discussions with Brom… _How blind I was… If only he was here… now… Would he be proud of me?_

As he continued running he spotted a clear pool of water by the road. He slowed as he approached it, and he then knelt by the water's edge. Calling upon the Ancient Language, the image of Nasuada's tent appeared before him on the water's surface. While waiting patiently, a young boy walked past. Within a moment he walked back and noticed Eragon's image on the mirror. With a slight stammer, the boy asked , "Umm, may I help you?"

Recognizing the boy as Jarsha, Eragon replied in a strong voice, "Yes thank you Jarsha. I would like to speak to Nasuada if she is not busy at the moment." With a startled realization at the familiar voice, Jarhsa nodded his head and quickly ran to carry out his message. As Eragon waited he composed himself mentally. Thinking upon what he should say, he recalled his master's current activities and decided that might be the ideal place to begin, and then decide where to continue from that situation. Before he could continue his thoughts, there was a rustling sound, and Nasuada came into view.

Looking at his masked face, a look of confusion came upon her. Before it could continue, Eragon decided it was best to say something. "Hello My Lady. I apologize I haven't contacted you sooner, however there has been a change in plans."

"Is that you Eragon? Why are you-"

"I apologize, my attire is required because of the situation I find myself in…. well… rather my physical condition. How goes the Varden?" The question put a smile on Nasuada's face. "Better than we have in years. The armies of Galbatorix have been routed, and they are in full retreat. Troop morale has been lifted and the Varden is in high spirits. Things have not been this wonderful in many years."

"That is indeed good news. As of now however, I must say that all that must come to an end. Very soon, I will be making my move in Dras-Leona. I understand that you will need to take several cities before you do so. I assure you however, that by the time you arrive with the Varden in Dras-Leona, you will be walking in as honored guests instead of conquerors."

Surprised, Nasuada hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "You… will have the city ready for us? I find it hard to believe that one person will be able to capture an entire city. Eragon as much as I'd like to… hope, that Dras-Leona will not require a siege to capture, I cannot simply change our plans because you promise this. We have taken much time in planning how we should fight Galbatorix. And yet you come promising to be able to topple one of the highest challenges that we must face. Although you have done many things to achieve our trust, this is….. rather trying. Although –"

Before she could continue, Eragon knew that he had to end this before more doubt and hesitation could be planted within Nasuada's mind. "With all due respect, before we can take on Urû'baen itself, we need more soldiers then we can possibly imagine. Through winning Dras-Leona from the inside, we save money, troops, as well as supplies. Quite the opposite actually, we would actually gain money, troops, and supplies. By that we can increase the Varden's numbers greatly and we would never have to worry about money being a problem. We would have enough food to feed our troops, and given the fact that we have captured several cities of our own, trade can flourish. Galbatorix's city will provide us with what we need. All I need is time. Dras-Leona is a major city. If we were to take it, I have no doubt Murtagh will be sent to _correct_ the governmental authority there. It would be much more logical to attack cities outlying Urû'baen, and then work our way in."

Her argument utterly shattered by the onslaught of logic, the tired and anguished look on her face signaled her defeat. "Very well then Eragon, you may go to Dras-Leona. I doubt the Varden would be very happy at the prospect of operating within the Empire like this, but I suppose they will just have to make do without you. I'm beginning to question how I can also explain this to the Dwarves… or the Elves for that matter." With a sigh, she gave him a worried, weary look. "Please be careful Eragon. It would not bode well for us to lose you." With that, she left the view of the mirror.

Standing up, Eragon instantly began running. As he did so, he began to think of the various precautions he should take when infiltrating Dras-Leona. _Perhaps I should watch out for any signs of Murtagh… My greatest and most likely threat will be the Raz'ac although they will have problems fighting me now. Still they definitely have something up their sleeves if they were able to survive the Age of Riders and the Age of Kuthians. _The hours seemed to drag along and with no one to talk to, things were getting very bland. Eragon began to think about what he could do to pass the time but nothing came to him.

The hours continued to drag along and soon, the sun arose over the horizon, though the cool air still chilled him. Recalling the various sciences that he learned under his new Master, he remembered how exactly one feels temperature. That it was actually the energy that was in the particles around him. _If I pour out some energy into the air that directly surrounds my body then I might be able to keep myself warm!_

But as Eragon did so, he noticed that the temperature increased too much. _I guess I released too much energy, or maybe it's the fact that – _but before he could finish his thought, something slammed into him from the wind knocked out of his lungs, Eragon went flying. _Damn! What the hell just hit me?!_ Twisting his legs upward, Eragon did a flip in the air and landed with a skid. Concentrating all of his energy towards the eye of his mind he frantically searched for his attacker, surprised that he didn't see it coming. But as the fractions to the second passed as Eragon's quickened mind searched, the more frantic he became. When for a full second he could not find his foe, he jumped back and got low. _I'm to slow then?_ Immediately he amped up the speed of his mind to the maximum that was possible, and then he saw it.

A faint silhouette in the air outlining a creature the size of a horse, it slowly stalked. Menacingly it was moving towards Eragon's left. Yet within a flash, it was right in front of him. Absolutely shocked, Eragon looked up and the beast grabbed him by the neck. Its massive claw like hand was crushing his neck. His vision flashing Eragon grabbed the creature's hand. Its muscles were like bands of steel, yet in spite of that, Eragon savagely struck it with his hands, armored in the odd cloth. But to no avail. The creature's relentless grip continued, squeezing the life out of him. _I guess this is the end… killed by this thing… before I could even do anything to change the situation of Alagaesia._

But before he gave himself up to The Void that called, a voice seemed to come up within him. _Eragon this will only be your end if you choose it to be. _

As the beast crushed the puny being before it, it knew that it had won. The wriggling was slowing down, the frantic breathing had crawled to a slow panting, and every instinct roared at it to strike the finishing blow, but in all its cruelty it fought its instincts to enjoy the kill. Then in its gradual slowness, the body came to a complete stillness. With a rumble that could have been accepted as a chuckle, the beast dropped the body. Falling, the body made no sound. As it hit the ground with a satisfying thud, the beast relaxed. The exhilaration of finally being able to attack something, the excited emotions felt that it could finally eat after so many years without prey was overwhelming.

As it sat on the ground, there was a sudden twitch. The beast halted, staring at the body and wondering if the being was still alive or whether the movement was simply muscle spasms. Waiting in that position for an entire minute, it barely breathed.

Yet in time it settled. It swung its arm downward as it was intending to remove the limbs before consuming them. Yet all of a sudden, there was a flash of light and a horrible crunch. Though being an upper level creature, higher than the usual Urgals and such, the creature was still not particularly bright. Confused, it wondered of various things that could have caused such a combination of visual and auditory signals. It cycled for a full second, recalling many different situations. Rocks falling from the sky, energy beams piercing comrades, yet despite all these memories, it could not think of it. Looking down with its dazed eyes, it noticed a particular silhouette. It was long and it seemed to be directly in front of him.

As the blinded condition seemed to fade it was able to see what was in front of him. Wrong, it was in him. And all of a sudden he had the peculiar sensation of something on his back. It was moving, and it was directly on the surface. It was then that the beast understood what happened. In the instant it raised its arm, the creature struck out with one of its own… and impaled him.

_There we go, now this is something I'm more comfortable with. _With his armor lodged in the beast's chest, his hand was open and spread so that the beast could not pull himself backwards and off Eragon's arm. _I guess I truly have become a weapon. It isn't the same as using a blade… this seems more…… straightforward. _Without relenting his grip Eragon used his free hand, the right one and grabbed the creature where its face would be. Though his hands were covered in cloth, he could still feel the steel like muscles beneath. Using the technique that he attempted to warm himself with, Eragon transformed it into a weapon. He formed another bubble around his hand using his mind, and pouring energy into the small area, Eragon super heated the air within by using his mind to apply energy to the individual atoms, yet oddly enough, the cloth that covered his hands seemed to repel the heat back into the bubble rather than absorbing it while simultaneously protecting his hand.

"I don't know why you attacked me, or what you are for that matter, but you've broken two of my ribs. Now I have somewhere to be, and this is going to be a problem for me. So I can't exactly let you go unpunished can I? Enjoy this!" Opening a hole in the bubble penning the energy around his hand, the heat and energy burst out through the tiny opening with massive force creating a beam of force and flame. The beast's head was completely enveloped. But Eragon didn't let it go that easily. He released his relentless grip and ripped his arm out of the beast's chest. The demon staggered back, blinded, impaled, and stunned by an extreme force applied directly to its face. Repeating his actions, Eragon formed another bubble around his hand, and pouring energy into it, more energy than before, he extended his arm, releasing the energy in bursts repeatedly hitting the beast with blasts from nearly 20 feet away that hit harder than he could punch at the moment, and burning it as well.

Then with grace, he sprinted towards the effectively paralyzed creature and kicked upwards hitting it squarely in the chest just above the hole he made moments earlier with his arm. The beast released a satisfying howl of pain. _Good, now to finish this! _Jumping up with incredible dexterity and acrobatics, Eragon performed a flip in the air, but as he came down he formed another sphere of energy around his foot. With a crack, his foot connected with what he hoped was the beast's forehead, and in that instant he released the energy with yet another explosion.

As he fell from the head area, Eragon planted his feet on the beast's chest and bending his knees and bringing himself close, he released and flew fifteen feet away. Knocked to the ground the beast didn't move for a fraction of a second as a result of the fresh wave of pain that was just applied to its head.

Taking this as an opportunity, Eragon ran towards it. Then the unexpected happened. With a sound of sliced air, the demon's arm shot out and smashed into Eragon's chest. Staggering back, Eragon shot another blast, but this time the demon dodged it by leaping to the left. It seemed to close up and compress itself, but Eragon immediately understood why. Within a fraction of a second, the demon lunged at Eragon. Though Eragon understood what was about to happen, he could not dodge it in time. The creature smashed into the lower half of his abdomen, the sound of breaking ribs echoed around the clearing made by their fight.

Landing nearly twenty feet away, Eragon rolled to a stop. He coughed and looking through the eye of his mind, he noticed a particular liquid in front of him. It had a similar viscosity to water, yet it was thicker, and had a particular glow to it. Then Eragon realized what it was. What he saw before him, that he coughed up… was blood.

_Damn, that last hit must've done more damage than I thought. Ach! My chest burns! I have to end this now, he definitely broke some more ribs. _Pouring as much energy as he could into his arm, he stood up shakily, his chest heaving. He saw the same silhouette of the beast ahead of him, and waited. He knew it would come. Blinded, dazed, stunned, impaled, burned, and angry the beast charged with malevolence. In the instant it was about hit him Eragon leaped to the left and swung his right arm connecting with the side of the beast.

Not caring how large the hole in the sphere was, or how fast the energy escaped its cage, Eragon shattered the barrier. With a flaming explosion, the beast vanished as well as everything thirty feet around him. Exhaustion gripped Eragon as he breathed in quick bursts in light of the sharp pains in his chest. Lowering his arm after a moment, Eragon staggered back and sat down on a slope. Lying back he looked at the sky above and prayed that his body would at least heal faster than it would before. The world went black, and all feeling was gone.

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**Author's Note**

**Well what did you think? Longest chapter I've written so far, I hope I update soon. Anywayzzz review me!**


	16. Part 1: Chapter XII

**Author's Note**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

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A Greater Sense of Purpose

The air was foggy and cool that morning. The night before held no signs of the bloodshed that occurred, no mark of the war that raged on, invisible to those unwilling to see the truth. The grass merged into a worn dirt road, which merged onto the stone ramp that led to the city gates. As they walked along the road to the gates of the city, the two men looked inconspicuous as they walked amongst the many people all with one destination in mind, Aratvia, the city where new beginnings could be made....... or where all things came to a close. The day was bleak. The rain the day before left the air cool, and many of the people arriving were wearing cloaks of all sorts to protect them from the weather. Walking along the main bridge that led into the city, the people walked along the narrow, inclined path. There were no side rails, and to fall off would mean a twenty foot drop at the first thirty feet on the bridge. The drop height only increased as one got closer and closer to the entrance.

As Shaddarra and Sharquin walked side by side on the extremely narrow path, they looked forward at the doors built into the massive walls ahead of them. From the distance, a normal person would have trouble seeing what was ahead of them. However, with their vision, they could clearly see that the doors were made of a heavy wood consisting of two layers. At the angle they were viewing this from however, they still needed to travel several hundred more feet before they could see the lower half of the door as a result of the slope the bridge was formed by.

The minutes passed as they continually walked forward and slowly in the distance, the door came closer and closer into view. The murky skies above gave no indication of clearing, but the air had an eerie wind about it. Another minute passed and the two men found themselves only several people away from being inspected. Looking to the side and over the edge, Shaddarra took note of the eighty foot drop and hoped that they wouldn't simply be thrown off the side of the ramp if they were rejected, however he doubted they would simply let themselves get thrown off.

Yet with a chill, he looked to the front once again and took note of the fact that there was no visible way for a person denied access to simply turn around. He ignored this fact for the moment and decided to keep moving. Not that they really had a choice in the matter. It wasn't like they could go back no. _We haven't exactly allowed ourselves to be seen back at that rat hole. I doubt they know who we are. Even if we were discovered back there, it is unlikely they were able to send out the word fast enough. And even if they did manage to do so, it would be unlikely they managed to give detailed descriptions. _

Walking forward once more, they were within feet of entering the city, and the guards ahead were inspecting the next group of people. Then in a single moment, Shaddarra banished his worries and ignored all sense of failure. _We have not made a single mistake, our plan shall work flawlessly. _The next group of people was cleared through, and the two men strode forward. The guards looked at them carefully starting from their heads down to their legs. Looking up, the first of the 2 guards spoke, "State your names and your business here."

With a confident voice and looking squarely at the man in the eye, Sharquin responded, "We have come to start our business in the city as blacksmiths." With an incredulous look, the guard looked at them in a mocking manner. He responded, "You have no blacksmith tools and no equipment suitable for forging. Who do you think you will fool with that tale?"

Sharquin smiled and replied, "How then shall we prove it?" The guard barked orders to a runner, and promptly said, "Wait here." He led them to a bench that was built into the arch way of the entrance and told them to sit. Looking at the full expanse of the arch, they realized that the thickness of the wall was at least a good 60 feet, plenty of room for rows upon rows of soldiers to stand and defend the wall from those who would siege it.

In the distance, there was the drone of marching men. Shaddarra listened intently, calculating the distance of the incoming soldiers using the sound produced in conjunction to the magnification of the sound produced by each soldier in order to get a rough estimate of the number of troops. He knew Sharquin was likewise doing the same thing, and he looked at him once he had an estimate. Sharquin did the same and mouthed "thirty." Shaddarra had guessed slightly less, but he wasn't sure if his brother estimated the number to be thirty or increased the number just in case.

Within moments, several squads of soldiers walked into the archway and promptly stood at attention waiting for orders. The gateman walked towards the group and called forth one of the soldiers standing in the middle of the group, armored differently in that unlike the shining bronze, the armor was a resilient, silver armor. He whispered orders into the man's ears and walked back into the arch. The captain of the squad walked towards Shaddarra and Sharquin and ordered them to follow him. They were led into the middle of the group of soldiers and ordered not to make any sudden movements. The group led them into the wide expanse of the archway and towards the entrance at the opposite end.

As they walked through the archway they were hit with beams of light streaming from the gleaming citadels, the sound of thousands conversing and moving resounding in their ears as they walked through the crowds. However, Shaddarra noticed something peculiar. None of the people glanced at them even once. They were diverted from the main street that led straight down the center of the city and were led into a smaller avenue. For another minute, they walked absorbing in everything they saw, until finally, they were led into a large plaza. Looking around, Shaddarra took in all the details with a single glance and understood the plaza to be a miniature self sustaining ecosystem for its residents.

Each plaza possessed various booths that served for several purposes. A large group served for food and such, another group for crafting supplies, but one group that stuck at more than others, were the buildings – not booths – with large doorways housing the forges. They were led to the forge where the soldiers leading parted at the entrance, standing in rows at the sides of the door way while those in the rear formed a double row connecting the two columns lined at the side of the doorway. Sharquin turned to the captain with a questioning glance. The captain nodded, and Sharquin did the same in reply.

Sharquin then led the way for the two into the forge. The air was hot and heavy; it held the smell of acrid smoke and metal. Smoke poured out of the large forge in front of them, covering half of the building's main room. _This seems a bit odd, I don't recall ever seeing a forge work this way. _But before Shaddarra could think for a moment more, a man strode out of the smoke, a glowing rectangular prism of metal in his gloved hands. He bustled past them and placed the metal onto an anvil near the front right corner of the room. Pulling a hammer off of the right wall, he began to hammer the metal into a shape. He alternated for a full twenty minutes between the anvil and forge, heating the metal to the proper temperature, and then resuming its shaping. Eventually, it finally took the form of an unsharpened blade. He plunged the metal into a barrel of water next to the anvil, and It exploded into a cloud of steam.

Without a single glance, he took off his gloves and placed them on hooks that were on the wall in the front. He took the hammer and returned it to its spot on the wall to the right. Only then did he dust himself off and look to Shaddarra and Sharquin who didn't move a fraction of an inch since their initial position. The man looked them over, and with a cool and controlled tone spoke. "So are you another group of hopeless?" Shaddarra glanced at Sharquin, who in turn looked at him for a brief moment. Sharquin turned to the man and replied, "Far from it, we plan on bringing something to believe in to the hopeless."

"An admiral dream" he replied, "but do you truly hope you can accomplish that feat?"

With a chuckle, Sharquin replied, "Hope is the resignation of true belief. It is simply false desire. If one truly wishes something to be done, then they must act upon what belief."

"And I suppose that's what your trying to achieve in coming here?"

With a sigh, Sharquin replied, "Yes, that is what we believe." The blacksmith smiled and walked the two over to another section of the building, grabbing gloves and other tools. He placed them on a nearby table. "You may use these tools. If you expect us to believe your story, then you must make a sword. It doesn't have to be amazing. However, it must have quality. If you truly are blacksmiths, then the first thing you would've had to learn, would be how to make a weapon. Since the sword is the most basic weapon in combat, that is what you shall make. Depending on how well the sword is made, we shall see where you will go from there.

"You have 3 days to make it. Even if the blade doesn't take three days, any form of decoration should take some time. You will be left alone. I personally know the value of being allowed to concentrate on one's work. Your three days begin in one hour. You may you have that hour to rest and perhaps nourish yourselves. As for beds, there heavy mats in the corner, you'll have to deal with those. We'll have someone checking in every once in a while… please don't blow up my forge."

With that he walked out, leaving the two to their work.

"Well then, shall we begin?" Sharquin asked with a smile. Shaddarra nodded and removed the gauntlets that he had and placed them on the table. In the old city they worked with a blacksmith for a time. They assisted the old man in the work since he was too old for extensive work. As a result, he imparted his broad knowledge on the forge to him. Unfortunately, some time after he trained the two with everything he could, he died leaving the forge to his son, who moved in with his family to take the forge and continue his father's business with his own sons. However, being the isolationistic pair, they didn't come back to the forge as the bonds they had were with the man's father, not the son.

_Well old man, looks like it's time to put your teachings to work. I wonder how much we actually remember from when you taught us._

The two removed their cloaks and placed it on a chair to the side while they were in a covered section of the store. They quickly removed all visible weapons that were covered by the cloak and donned the gloves that were put out as well as the thick apron.

They looked around and found some old pieces of metal in a small storeroom, but not enough to make a sword, and potentially weak enough to break the sword should they use it once they found enough. Looking around the shop, they found many pieces of iron lying in small piles. They placed them in bags and put them in the large bowl over the flames in forge. Shaddarra quickly grabbed a bellow and pumped air into the forge while throwing new wood onto the flames. Sharquin inspected the heating iron, and ordered Shaddarra to the right side of the forge. Together, they pulled out the bar that went through the loops on the top of the thick and placed it several rungs lower so that the bowl itself was licked by the flames as it burned brighter, hotter , and the iron glowed from its gray dull color to a bright orange.

As they waited for the iron to heat up, Sharquin removed his gloves and strode across the plaza towards a fruit stand. Pulling out the necessary number of coins, he handed the bronze to the young girl at the booth. The light from above shown into the plaza leaving everything in its hazy glow.

Sharquin returned with several fruits in hand and tossed a couple over. Shaddarra took a bite, but his mind was still set on the blade before him. As he ate the apple, he walked over to a pile of molds and grabbed a suitable one for the amount of metal they had. He set it out onto the stand nearby and walked over to the furnace, placing the apple onto the table nearby. Sharquin likewise placed down his food and walked over as well. The two lifted the bar that passed through the rungs on the bowl and brought it over to the mold where they poured out the white hot metal into the mold. The metal seeped into the dregs of the mold filling it completely. As Shaddarra watched it fill in, Sharquin grabbed his apple and continued eating. Shaddarra turned to grab in when he heard a sudden sound to his left near the front of the store. He instinctively ducked but something crashed directly into him. Shaddarra felt himself lift off of the ground completely. His head spinning, he estimated he was moving fast, very fast. A moment later he felt his slam into the side of the furnace and all went dark.

Eragon woke with a start, his eyes wide open underneath the bandages, his heart pumping, and his mind racing analyzing everything around him. He calmed down after a moment analyzing the situation, wondering what just happened. Recalling the dream, he pondered on it for a moment, then filed the memory deep into the archives of his mind for later inspection. Looking around with his mind's eye, he inspected the area, and to his somewhat uncomfortable satisfaction, the beast from what seemed to be days ago, was gone. He got up and realized suddenly that there was little to absolutely no energy in the air or the surrounding area. The temperature was definitely below the freezing point of water. As he stood up, he realized that he felt no pain. _All of my wounds have been healed… and the directly against my skin seems to be slightly hardened compared to the layers on the surface. _

Walking up the slope created by the explosion earlier, he reached the top within a minute and was surprised that he didn't even feel sore after the fight. Reorienting himself, he found which direction happened to be south east and began running. _I have no idea what that thing was, perhaps a creation of Galbatorix, or maybe something that's been in Alagaesia before everything. Or maybe this is what master meant by a higher level creature. _As Eragon was running, he noticed that he was moving slower than before. _Slower than when I first came from the other world… I have to reassess my abilities in order to optimize my utilization of my powers. I guess the only way to do this is to do put everything I've got on strain. _

Running as fast as he could, he slowly began to realize that his speed was significantly slower than before. _I suppose this is the slow process where I change, but why this difference of speed occurred now of all times and with such a huge stretch of digression has yet to be seen. I know for a fact that I used to be faster than this so if my strength and abilities is supposed to increase, why did this happen?_

As time went on Eragon continued to think about what happened while he was knocked out and how his wounds were healed. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he thought about it, the more confusing things seemed. With a sigh he reminded himself to rethink his analytical process. _Return to the basics if you want to understand the situation. _He rethought what had happened and what the end results were. _I was fighting that thing and I took some injuries. The fight ended when I released all that energy from a single point, and I passed out after using so much energy. In that time I had that weird dream about the past, and when I woke up all of my injuries were healed and my clothes were more… armored…_

At first he was confused, but the more he thought about the order of events and what happened between them, it became clear to him as he placed everything in that order and analyzed it. _The energy that was lacking in the environment was transferred into the armor and bandages which acted as the mediation between the energy and my body. So that means when I'm injured and in a bad situation, this suit probably takes energy from the environment. Some of the energy was used to completely heal me, but the excess energy seems to have been used speed up my evolution process and shift these bandages into a more protective state. But then why has this evolution been detrimental instead of progressive? I doubt I'll be able to liberate Dras Leona in this condition… _

The minutes dragged on till time went on to an hour. _I suppose the only thing that has remained is my endurance but even this is beneath the level of the elves, the level that I reached previously, however it is not as low as the human level. So what is happening?_

As Eragon ran on, the land slowly changed from the plains to the more rough terrain that was generally the Empire with stretches of beautiful land in sparse places. Looking forward on what was a minor road compared to the major ones that crossed the Empire. Though he still could not see far without the full use of his eyes, he could still see traces of the road that he was running. He noticed that it was gradually getting wider, and he deduced that he was getting closer to the main road. _However I am on a road that is coming from the Northern stretches of the Empire and I only stepped on the road at a certain point in the middle. I am going back towards the Empire… so where does this road lead to towards the end I was coming from?_ After about another twenty minutes of pondering and running, Eragon finally reached the main dirt roads of the Empire. He thought back to the map of Alagaesia and estimated the distance he would have to run from his approximate location to Dras Leona. He estimated that he had a good hour of running and that he should use the remaining time to plan what he should do.

_I guess I should start with how I get in. If I plan on liberating the city from the inside out, my best bet towards actually accomplishing something would be by forming an actual group of people within the city who are not content with how things are run there. So if that is the case, I'd have to form my own identity. It would have to be a legitimate one that I can use with the common people and at the same time, one that is disposable. So the identity would have to be formed from the moment I enter the city which would imply giving a name and profession at the gate of the city and continuing with those two throughout my incursion in Dras Leona. _

Eragon thought of the various things he could do, and decided on his name. _I suppose if I have to use some sort of name, I'll simply go with something that is anonymous. It cannot be something that actually sticks out. The whole mission wouldn't go well if even my name causes interest in others. I guess I'll go with Laégen for now. Laégen the blacksmith..… excellent! I suppose from my short visit the best groups of people to contact would be the slaves and the lower class merchants that sympathize with them. The higher level of society is a minority compared to the masses beneath them. I'm sure a simple blacksmith would be best, specializing in things as kitchen utensils and things of that nature. Eventually, I'm going to have to learn how to forge swords. _

_It shouldn't take too long to make a simple name for myself, however I'm going to have to find a way to involve myself in the local politics and take on a new mantle for my character. It has to be someone that others can look up to but also one they cannot permanently rely on. I'll also need at least two people that will personally assist me. One will succeed me once I take my leave, and the other will have to be someone who possesses the half chance to betray us, and the other half to augment us in our goals. Yes… I understand how this should work, now my only hope is to put into action… no, hope is simply for the weak. I have the power to do this and I will accomplish this. Those who do not possess the strength or ability to do this can put their hope in me. I do not have the right to simply hope. _

As Eragon came out of his thoughts from the deep confines of his mind, he came back to reality and stopped suddenly startled. He looked around surprised that the terrain hadn't changed one bit. He looked at the rocks along the road in front of him and was surprised to see that it was the same exact set as the ones that were before him when he entered his thoughts.

_I guess this is the best evidence of my mind being faster than my body. I'll be sure to reassess the details of the plan after this… my thoughts have become so much faster than my body that I was able to think all of that before my body was able to complete one stride at running speed… incredible! _

Then a realization hit him, and he sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. _I guess this means I have nothing to do for the next hour. _With that, he jogged on towards the city ahead. But it was getting close to noon, and he could sense in the distance a traveler making it's way in the opposite direction towards him. _If it spot me, I'm sure to arouse suspicion. _A moment later he hit his head in anger against his stupidity. _If mere travelers find me to be suspicious by my clothing, then the men guarding the gate wouldn't?! Brom would've been furious, Oromis would've been annoyed, and master would have re-drilled the basics back into my head for days on end. I need to find a different way into the city other than the main gate. And I need to find a way to hide from this person. _With that he stepped off the road and sprinted three meters across the grass on the side of the road into a nearby set of trees and shrubs that covered a fairly large area off to the left side of the road.

As he hid in the bushes he felt pride in what his master taught him. Though he was taught the basic control of atoms and particles, Eragon was able to use knowledge gained from Brom, Oromis, and the Ancient One to use his abilities in many ways. Crouching on one leg, he looked about with his mind's eye at the photons around him and began to draw in the according colors leaving behind nothing to reflect but green and brown out of the whole color spectrum. Within a single moment, he was completely camouflaged, concentrating the apex of the strength of his mind solely on keeping himself that way. _I might be a bit limited on how much I can still do without the full use of my mind, but the good thing about using this instead of the Ancient Language is that my camouflage is perfect. _

He reduced the distance his mind sensed to within twenty feet of himself and tried to see what kind of people were passing by. _Damn the old man. If I still had my eyes, then I would still be able to see who it is and I wouldn't have this problem. But still, if I can gain the strength that he has, then it would mean several steps towards defeating Galbatorix. _The footsteps drew closer quietly, and Eragon realized that whatever it was, it too was trying to avoid attention. The person was garbed in a full cloak and was able to walk almost completely silently. Emitting sound at a level only Eragon's enhanced non-movement based senses could detect. The person entered Eragon's range of detection and he shifted his body so that he was prepared to run if required.

Looking through the eye of his mind, he saw that the person was not human. _An elf? But what would they be doing here? _However, peering closer at the person, he noticed that it wasn't a human or an elf. _It isn't human, and it is definitely a male, unless this happens to be a very manly woman. __The person is very balanced… their walking is very balanced, ready for anything…_

All of a sudden there was a click of a blade being unsheathed, and he felt cold steel against the back of his neck… all within an instant. _You've got to be kidding me. _The shock was undeniable, the sheer realization of what was against him nearly stopped Eragon's heart.

When he spoke, his voice was loud and clear, and Eragon felt a chill listening to his words. "Well then, what have we here? One of the _Kuthians_ in training? I could detect you from nearly fifteen kilometers away. Your ability to hide yourself is only to the inhabitants of this world, but to us, you are nothing more than a massive pillar of light visible from miles around. It seems that you've already had a small quarrel from an initiate, but you are nowhere near the rank of a general, let alone the rank of the now dead Allied Commander that took on Galbatorix himself all those years ago. You are not worthy to be the heir of our race. I thought all you rebels were all eliminated in the second war for the third world, but I guess the task force wasn't thorough enough. Regardless of whether you ever will gain true strength to beat us, this is where it ends for you. It looks like your father won't be going anywhere either."

_My father?! Is he implying that he is still alive? Who is this guy, and what is he talking about? _All of a sudden, something exploded behind Eragon. An enormous force threw Eragon forward a good bow shot and he landed face first in the ground. _Great, now wha…._

Before he could finish his thought, Eragon noticed a presence behind him. Not the man that nearly killed him, but a very familiar presence. _Master?_ Turning around, what Eragon saw stunned him. His mind's eye saw everything vividly, the clarity of the two men before him was astounding. The man who threatened him was now on the other side of a massive crater. On the side closer to him, stood the Ancient One, clad in a seemingly light, but very menacing armor with a blaze of golden and black flames surrounding him.

The armor plating possessed many points where the shape of the armor was extended into long blades. His hair fluttered in the wind as the gale created by his arrival tore apart everything around them. His hands were covered with gauntlets, each individual finger encased in the heavy metal sharpened to a point so that his hands were now claw like. In one hand he held a long katana, its edge glowing black where as the blade was gold, held still at his side while a vortex of energy swirled around the sword adding to the force of the wind. In his left hand was a lance of what was clearly pure energy to Eragon. Eragon was taken aback by the huge masses of energy the two men were influencing as they clashed at a single horizontal line at least a kilometer wide. The two massive walls pushed at each other, the golden-black wall of The Ancient One, and the blood red wall of the traitor who possessed the power to head the eradication of the entire Kuthianic race under the jurisdiction of Galbatorix.

**Author's Note**

**Well, haven't gotten that much time to write. SATs aren't' very forgiving, though I got some time over the winter break. **


	17. Part 1: Chapter XIII

**Author's Note**

**Well its been a long time and school/education isn't very forgiving. So I wasn't really sure if I had the right to post another short story since it's been so long since I've uploaded so I took the liberty of writing a fairly long one this time. Now that things have kinda quieted down in terms of school I'll probably be uploading again so happy face to that :D**

**Oh, and don't forget that if you see a number in bold within the story, it means you should go to the very end of the whole document for the note that I added there. Enjoy!**

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Assembling A Team

The wind that buffeted Eragon was incredible. The sheer power emanated by the two beings before him was actually pushing out all the air in the area. Eragon had already retreated at least a mile back, but even still he found it difficult to breathe. Though he made his retreat, he still could not take his eyes off of the two titans clashing before him. The wind that tore through the area cycloned away from the two men with zealous fervor, tearing at his clothes. It was not a normal wind however. It burned into him and seared him as if someone lit a blaze around him. The ground shook and cracked in the wake of the forces that raged against each other, and then it began to escalate into a higher phase. The wind picked up speed, and the shaking that occurred at seemingly random intervals merged into one steady rumble. With his mind's eye, he could see the vast connections that the two minds before him formed. The connections consisted of something. A material so dense that it was interfering with gravity itself, as rocks and pebbles floated in the air as if an invisible being were plucking them off the ground.

_ This is unbelievable... That two beings could be so powerful... it can't be possible by this world's standards... They can destroy entire cities with this strength... This isn't something that shouldn't exist in this world... the Riders themselves were __already powerful enough, but now this? The balance of power is shifting. It seems like the Riders are of less importance but I can't understand this until I further understand the rules The Ancient One mentioned, something about higher beings in a different realm being above the level of lower beings... I have to learn how this applies to me. _

Seeing everything from afar, Eragon had to make a decision. Whether to act upon what he saw, or ignore it and continue on with his mission.

Contemplating on the situation, Eragon decided that if he had wanted him to do anything, The Ancient One would have signaled something to him. On this basis, Eragon decided to continue on. Making a wide berth from the area consumed by power and destruction, he trudged onward, ever aware that should his master lose, nothing would stop him from instant oblivion at the hands of The Betrayer. His movements were slowed as if he was swimming. Then, as if the cords that held him were suddenly cut loose, Eragon was free from the bonds that held him. He glanced back one last time, and began his sprint to Dras-Leona.

As he ran his thoughts flew from the various aspects of how the Kuthians came to power, and how he could apply that to his plan for Dras-Leona. As he ran, he delved deep into the procured memories that The Ancient One showed him of the first Kuthians. As he did so however, Eragon started drifting from the conscious state. The memories of the trials of old seemed to flash within his mind. They pulsed, and the clear image that was in his mind surged with clarity. Rather than seeing what was going on, for fractions of a second, he felt it. The air of a blade slashing right in front of his face, a sudden rush of adrenaline and a return to the barren wasteland he was walking through. Flashes of a city pulsated before his mind's eye and all of a sudden, it was as if he simply fell into a pit where all senses melded into the experience that he was seeing. Then, the being that was Eragon fell away, and the being known as Shaddarra came to life…

As he was knocked backwards, Shaddarra let the transferred energy and momentum flow through him and used it to perform half flip, landing on the palm of his hands with his head facing the ground. Grounding his legs into his attacker, he contracted his legs so that he was completely standing on his hands with his attacker's weight on his legs. He then completed the flip, throwing his attacker by re-extending his legs in the backwards arc as he flipped back onto his feet. The mid-sized man crashed into the wall with a heavy thud, falling to the ground with a cough. Looking up, Shaddarra registered two more attackers, with three mangled bodies on the floor in a bloody mess at the hands of Sharquin. Sharquin was making quick work of the next one, countering his moves, and waiting for the proper moment to strike. Shaddarra picked his target and lunged forward with a knife he procured from the first attacker. Shaddarra leaped over the table before him, slashing at key points on the closest arm. The man's arm exploded in flurry of slashes, disabling his arm from proper use for what would prove to be a notable amount of time. As Shaddarra did so, all of his movements were fluid. Dodging an attack from the man's other arm as he roared in rage for his now maimed limb, Shaddarra ducked and twirled out from underneath the man's swinging arm, simultaneously slashing at the chords that kept the man's armor piece together for his abdominal region, his swinging blade forming arcs of blood in the air that flew from the knife's tip as they cut through the armor's now open points. Within the blink of an eye, Shaddarra - in one motion - put on his specially made steel-plated glove that was in his pocket. Then with significant force, Shaddarra hit the man on the back of the head knocking him unconscious. Looking around, he found that Sharquin was already done and waiting for him to finish up.

"I suppose I should work on my speed… " Sharquin gave a nod and looked in the direction of the failed assassins, "Speed will always help us. I've got a special training in mind for that, but in the mean time, we should make ourselves scarce. We have much to reconsider." Being a pair of few words, they immediately knew what the other would think of. For years, they had devoted much of their time simply for the sake of syncing their thoughts in many situations. They would spend hours thinking about a situation one or the other would come up with and by listening to the other's plan and approach, they were able to anticipate the other's movements in a situation flawlessly after spending so much time using this training method. By doing this, even if they were separated, they could still link up and match independent plans assuming they understood what situation the other was in. Consequently, they also had an idea of what would be the best thing to do if they were separated and had to work completely independent of the other.

Shaddarra walked slowly towards the door built into the wall off to the side. Turning around, and examining the smithy one last time, Shaddarra readjusted his clothing and stepped out into the door. He shut it and locked it, and began walking down the street in the direction towards the center of the city. He walked at a sub-moderate pace. His strides were even, but still matched the ones of those around him. Looking around, he constantly adjusted his pace to the speed most adopted by the surrounding people. He used in this in conjunction with a second tactic; hunching his shoulders slightly and relaxing his muscles, Shaddarra made himself slightly smaller, matching the typical height of those around him. By doing this along with constant speed adjustments, Shaddarra was practically invisible. With his face drawn blank, filled with neither annoyance, rage, sorrow, or happiness, he was masked excellently. His figure merged perfectly with the flow of the crowd. His clothes were specifically designed by the two for their various purposes. Shaddarra was the one who considered the need for it, but Sharquin took the time to research it. Once finished, the two began the construction of a special kind of under armor. It consisted of specially treated fibers that were both durable but flexible. The combination of such a thing worked to their advantage as the clothes underneath was built in a scale like fashion that could be adjusted to stack upon each other or be spread out. By stacking them on each other as Shaddarra was doing now, it gave the appearance that his arms, legs and torso were thicker than it actually was. This coupled with his hunched back made him appear to be a short, squat man with thick arms and legs – completely contrasting his actual appearance.

The clothes were incredibly designed for the day and age, and because of its incredible versatility, they could change it to whatever the situation required.

As he walked, he was acutely aware of the extremely faint shadow that seemed to flash on the clothes and heads of the people around him. He kept note of the almost imperceptible sound of footsteps on the rooftops ahead. He followed the shadow intently, making sure he didn't lose its trail. At the same time he was continuously noting those around him and their relative position to himself. He walked in this careful fashion for almost a full hour, all leading towards the center of the city. As he did so, he became increasingly aware of a presence behind him. It was of a different nature than those of the assassins.

_It might sound crazy, but its as if I can sense their intent. The assassins gave off an aura of determination and a rush along with that. There was no hate however, so I suppose that whatever their motive, it wasn't necessarily something personal. I suppose that's good because it'll take a lot less to convince them to back off. Fear wasn't a part of their drive so it would seem they are acting of their own accord, not because someone is manipulating them through fear. However, I suppose they can be manipulated without them even knowing it…_

Shaddarra sighed at the grimness of his thoughts. _Why is it that none of my observations __are __ever comforting?_

As Shaddarra approached one of the four gateways that opened into the city square, he took note of the two guards that stood on either side of the archway, as well as the line of guards on top of the gate itself. Shaddarra's eyes flitted towards the left and up towards the rooftops. He smiled inwardly as his eyes confirmed what his mind was thinking. Sharquin was making his way towards the gate. _No doubt to form some sort of distraction_, _or make some kind of opening for me to slip through_. _If my hunch is right, then my role as the bait was played…. to a degree of satisfaction I suppose. In any case, Sharquin will most likely have a report of reconnaissance once we meet up. _

Making his way closer to the gate, Shaddarra noticed that part of the gate was under construction. He instantly thought back to their previous escape, but he denied that as a means of distraction. _Using the construction site like the last time would definitely prove to be a distraction, but there's no way we can implement that in broad daylight with this many people walking in and out of that archway. _Shaddarra watched intently out of the corner of his eye. He knew that if Sharquin could not make a sufficient distraction then he would be on his own. Slowly meandering towards the portcullis, Shaddarra absorbed all the sounds and signals from the environment around him.

Suddenly, the earth in front of him shattered as something that looked like lightning impaled the ground in front of him. To everyone around him, who consequently panicked and jumped out of the way, running away from the point of impact, a bolt of lightning was what it looked like, but to Shaddarra with his enhanced abilities, it was something more. Because of the speed of the projectile, he understood why people wouldn't have seen the elongated pole embedded within it, but what surprised him the most was the fact that the pole simply dissipated the moment it touched the ground. What further disturbed him was the fact that the speed of the projectile was fast enough to give the notion that it was lightning and that because of the speed, he never saw it coming.

_Considering these factors, the person who fired that thing either had an amazing talent with illusions, an incredible affinity towards magic, knows some kind of ability that I'm not yet aware of, or has one hell of a throwing arm. Once again, none of these are very comforting. Bu__t__ if the person shot it in front of me, then that means that the technique or weapon is either hard to use, or more likely, a warning. The warning would probably be to stay where I am currently, and if it actually was trying to hit me, then I'm glad to say that the person is probably not intelligent for using such a hard to use technique for an assassination. _

As Shaddarra returned from the depths of his mind that allowed him to ponder on such things within a fraction of a second, he began moving. Fast, fast enough so that he was nothing more than a blur throughout the crowd. He didn't bother if anyone saw him because there was no way any of them would be able to perceive who he was. Still, none of it mattered at the moment. As Shaddarra weaved in and out of the crowd towards the portcullis, he looked back and tried to find his assailant, but at the speed he was moving and the chaos behind him, there was no way he could find him. _I have to find this guy before he kills m-_

Unable to complete his thought, Shaddarra's heart nearly stopped at what happened within that minuscule fraction of a second. His eye's wide with shock, another bolt of jagged lightning flew past him, singeing his right cheek and cutting through the hood he wore with ease. Shaddarra dived as another bolt went flying past him.

_That was a close one, and_ _I don't have the time to check, but how is it that these bolts hasn't hit anyone? _

As if the attacker knew exactly what he was thinking, another bolt was let loose from the darkness. Shaddarra thought he escaped this next attack as it went flying towards him, but flew just above the nape of his neck. Just as he was about to continue his sprint towards the portcullis, albeit in an interesting fashion, the bolt exploded, and Shaddarra felt as if he had been struck by a hammer. His hands hit the ground and Shaddarra strained his arms to use the force that hit him to his advantage. Using his arms and hands as a pivot Shaddarra used the force to perform a front flip With the air knocked out of his lungs, Shaddarra sprang to his feet, the lactic acid in his legs produced a burning sensation as he drove himself onward. Sprinting through the people, he wondered where Sharquin could be.

Diving past a stand of food, Shaddarra landed behind several people. Ignoring the looks he got from those around him, he scrambled forward under the cover of the surrounding crowd into a narrow alleyway, littered with wooden crates and other containers. Moving further in, he sat between two stacks of boxes with his back to the wall. The light cast down from the gap in the buildings above created many dark shadows thanks to the stacked boxes and crates strewn along the alleyway, leaving his panting form hidden in the dark. Within a minute of rest, he had caught his breathe and got up. Jumping up against the wall in front of him, he back-flipped so that his feet were firmly planted on the wall he initially had his back to. Then leaping upward with all of his might and twisting during his jump, he cleared through the gap and landed on the roof. Sprinting from one roof top to the next, he ran forward towards the wall at breakneck speeds.

As he sprinted towards the final rooftop before the wall, he jumped into the gap between the roof he was currently on and the rooftop ahead of him, and smiled as he did so, for the moment his head just barely cleared the fall down, a jagged bolt of light streaked above him impacting against the large city wall. But while sprinting down the passage he found himself in, he heard the light landing of someone behind him and knew it to be his attacker. He wasn't sure how, something of instinct he supposed.

Looking ahead with slight dismay, he noted the distance he still had to go before he reached the end of the alley, and knew that there was no way he could possibly clear it before his attacker fired off a bolt into his back. Jumping on a crate, Shaddarra jumped high, hoping to find some kind of holding on the wall that he could grasp. In that instant however, he was hit. An extended hand impacted against the right side of his face, crushing his head against the wall to his left. He felt a sharp pain in his neck for a fraction of a second, and in that moment, everything turned black.

As he came to, Eragon woke up with a start. His head felt dizzy, and as he tried to get up off of the hard ground. He was faintly aware of his sore body, his weary limbs, and a feeling of nausea that threatened to make things a bit messy if he wasn't careful with how fast he moved. The world seemed dark and weary. Looking around him, he tried to recognize his surroundings, but to no avail. Above, a ceiling of storm clouds rumbled as Eragon finally got on his feet. He found himself in a rocky area, with a small river to his right side. On his left was a forest of leafless trees that he could not recognize. His clothes were slightly rustled as if he had been running for a while, but his heart wasn't beating at a quickened pace. With his mind still under a veil, he tried to grab hold of the acute senses that once graced his body and thoughts.

Slowly, his thinking came back to him. Standing tall, he stood still and absorbed the information that was coming from his senses. He felt the touch of the cool breeze, the firm feel of the earth beneath him, and a sense of purpose that made his heart beat faster as he pondered what the dream of his meant to him and how he should respond. Opening the eye of his mind, he was able to see the connections of existence that formed the structure of the world. Strong beams that held the world together spanned the sky unseen by none except the eyes that beheld them now. Looking ahead he saw the lines of light that passed through the earth and into the trees.

_Despite the appearance of __desolation, life is still here…_

Walking forward, Eragon found the he was only about thirty meters from the path. Unsure of what way to go at first, he looked back and forth along the road hoping to see what could guide him towards the place he needed to go to…

_To liberate a city…_

Breathing in and out deeply, Eragon felt the world around him, his senses drinking in everything.

He began to think of what he had to do. What he could do to save the city from the grasp of Galbatorix. All of a sudden, as he thought of what he needed to do, he felt something. He felt a rising force within him. It felt like the physical manifestation of the purpose that he had the sense to accomplish. As if it was being pushed up, Eragon felt the sense rise up and out of him. Looking up with his mind's eye, what Eragon saw astonished him. His mind's eye saw something: the connection of himself to his purpose rise up towards the sky; a beam of light that was not unlike the others that were holding up the structure of the world.

It rose and rose, and finally, at a certain point in its ascendency, the beam shot out in a direction towards the south-west. He felt as if he was being held up by a line. It urged him to go forward with haste. And, somehow, though he was not told explicitly in some way, he knew somehow that he would find Dras Leona at the end.

_And so begins my trek once again…_

Sprinting along the path and following the connection forward to Dras Leona, Eragon ran on into the night. Time did not seem to have a hold on him and he felt himself flow through time and space as he moved over forward to Dras Leona.

Thirty kilometers to the south-west, in the northern end of the city of Dras Leona, in a place that was not the worst part of the city, but far from the riches of the upper class, a man sat in a rowdy bar. He sat at a table close to the corner, staring at the liquor before him and thinking upon the events of the day. It was late in the day, but in Dras Leona, it might as well have been night. The torches on the walls had been lit telling him the time of day and how late it was. Thinking about the day depressed him. He remembered it simply as another day of torment, another day of living under the thumb of the unjustly rich and powerful. "Darman!"

Looking up, the he saw a man standing by the door looking at him. He recognized the man as one of the men that worked with him.

"It's time for us to go. The captain's waiting for us at the third plaza, seems like another one tried to desert."

With a sigh, Darman stood and downed his drink quickly. He stood up and walked to the door while tossing a coin to the bar tender on the way. Grabbing his helmet and cape that identified him as a member of one of the elite squads of soldiers that backed the governor and those who ruled the city, he walked out the door wondering what he should do.

"So who was it?" asked Darman. "Cheswick this time. We all knew it would happen eventually. He may be good, but we all understand that the job requires some stomach. Considering Cheswick's nature, how could he have possibly lived up to it?" With a depressive look on his face, Darman recalled everything he knew about Cheswick: A good man who worked hard for the sake of his family, worked through the ranks to the elite squad from a young man patrolling the streets for petty crooks to a young leader of six men as they kept the streets of his assigned area free of crime.

_It always starts out good to us. We think that everything is going right and proper in how we do this. We work hard, but then we move up in the world because of our skills. Oh the irony… They bring us up after seeing which one of us is the best, and those are the men that are lifted up to the elite squads. We all start out good. But then they make us work for them. They make us uphold the corrupted house they have built. Taxing and oppressing the poor, innocent, and defenseless. When they cannot give them what they demand of them, they send in the shining Elite Squads to shackle them and make an example of them to others. They have turned us into their image and banner to the people and thus we are despised. _

Walking along, the men mounted their horses and rode through the hustling city, through the men and women who walked, past the carts filled with various merchandise, onwards to the third plaza where they were called to condemn yet another man. He was sick of it all. Riding through an archway and entered the third plaza. Towards the center, they saw the people crowded around something. Though he knew what was to happen, it did not allay the nausea and rage against the immorality of it.

_But I can't escape it can't I?_

The crowd parted for them the moment they saw the gold insignia on their burgundy capes. Riding into the crowd, the two men dismounted and looked before them at the circle that surrounded the man to be condemned. Darman noted the other seven members of their elite group and walked into the circle they made, filling in the gap they left for him. Cheswick was on his knees in the center, looking down as tears ran the length of his face. He was still in full armor, but did not have his helmet on. He retained his cape that showed who he was and the burnished silver and iron armor spoke of his lofty position of power.

But despite the tears, there were no sobs. There wasn't even a whimper. The tears ran down his face but his figure was as stone. As Darman took his place in the smaller circle of the elite group around the man, just inside the larger circle that the crowd made around them, Cheswick shifted slightly. He looked up into the eyes behind the helmet, and he saw the tired and sorrowful eyes of Darman. Cheswick held his gaze until Darman looked down in shame and anger at his inability to help in some way. The captain of the group was in the middle standing at the left side of Cheswick, his sword drawn. Darman looked to his left and right, and saw a few eyes of the group looking at him.

They were telling him something, Asking… Pleading…

_Is it time? Has the moment for our declaration of war arrived? Is this the moment where we finally make a stand?_ _We can't keep on going when we lose one comrade after another to this corrupted and damned bureaucracy. So what will you do? Will lead us against it? Are you willing to give your life… our lives to save this man? Will you act out the words you spoke to us? Or are you simply another thinker? Are you just another philosopher to spit out words of contempt against a government and not act on it? We've stilled ourselves in the time of patience and strategy. We've held down our swords in times of our calling all for the sake of your patience and logical strategy. But this is different. We all know what Cheswick means to us. What he means to the resistance. What he means to you… So here lies before you your ultimatum. What will you do?_

With all his past experiences with these men, the whispered discussions, the debating that happened in hidden and secret rooms, the talks around the fire when the captain was dealing with other matters… He knew that all these questions that had been asked before was being brought to him again. They were being brought up from the depths of his doubt and hesitation that held back the change that would affect all their lives and held up in the eyes that now professed the questions to him in case he still wondered if they were being asked. The fear of what the results of their actions here would be was there.

But looking at the man before him, he knew he could not sit idle. The man he considered closest to him in the world was about to die and his hesitation was asking if he could simply sit idle and watch it happen.

_No little brother now is not the day of your death, today is not the day I allow you to fall to this bureaucracy__. I've done things your way, and we both see that we cannot change the system. Now it is time to wage war against it, destroy it, and start the system anew. Things will be done my way, and now is the time we act. _

Lifting his head up, he first glanced at the eyes that looked at him. Then he looked down into the eyes of his brother, and Darman's own eyes told Cheswick of the revolution that was about to be born.

Then he felt something. He felt a strong sense of purpose. It rose up within him as if it was some physical object that could be seen and felt, but as it did so, something descended upon him. The two sides, one rising and the other falling from above met and at last, after months and even years of being broken by the city he had now grown to hate, he felt completed and right the moment he made his decision.

He gave a quick and unnoticed nod, and five men of the elite squad shifted imperceptibly, seen and perceived as only a slight change in stance due to the amount of time they were standing in the same position. But all of them pulled a thread of the sleeve that was covered by their full body armor. And slowly, spheres filled with various types of dust and chemicals rolled down their sleeves underneath their armor and into their hands, unbeknownst to the people around them. But Cheswick knew. He designed the weapon. He explained to them how they could be hidden, how they should be used, how they could turn a dangerous and undesirable situation to their advantage. His study of the chemicals was the results of a great society devoted to the study of the science before they were destroyed in Galbatorix's 'purification.' The society itself spanned not only what was the Empire but the outside and rebellious nation to the south. He did not know for certain, but he had heard rumors of a great man in the south who experimented with the laws of their world after the society's fall just as he was doing. The remnants of the knowledge gained by the original organization were uncovered by Cheswick, and he knew they could use it against Galbatorix just as he was sure the man of the South was doing the same.

The research he did on the chemicals and how they could be used was extensive. In the months of planning and analyzing how they could achieve freedom, Cheswick was busy equipping them with the tools and the infrastructure they needed in order to win. But it required more than that. Once they won, they had to be able to stay on the top of the hill for the Varden to hear of their victory and accept their petition for an alliance. They knew that once they started and the people heard of their victory, there would be a flood of the lower-class willing to for change. But numbers would not be able to help them when the city itself was besieged by the seemingly infinite resources of the Empire. They needed weapons of a higher caliber than before. Warfare itself had to be changed if they were to overcome both the magic and the blades of the Empire.

But none of it could happen if Cheswick was dead. None of them held the scientific and revolutionary mind the Cheswick had. None of them possessed the ability to think outside the established way of thinking. None of them possessed the innovation that Cheswick was imbued with. Though they saw Cheswick as their friend and companion, they now recognized his value as a key structural support to the fortress of freedom they were now building. And so, they were glad that their desire to save Cheswick was not only rooted in their affection for him as their companion and fellow conspirator, but also as a key battle for their freedom, meaning that Cheswick's survival had absolutely no room for failure.

Failure of something that would simply damage them emotionally was one thing. They could overcome it over time and continue the fight. But failure for something that would not only destroy their hearts but the city's redemption gave them a higher calling and need to fight. It was not only for the sake of their emotions and care for Cheswick. Giving up the fight to save one man would be selfish. That had been made clear to them at the start. They all knew that if it came down to it, the redemption and freedom of the city would be held above all of their lives, even Darman's. Though he was the one who brought them together, they could find others amongst themselves to rise to the call of leadership if it truly came down to that level. They had the duty to freedom and it if it cost them their lives, so be it. Some had already paid the price, forcing several to fall away and others to steel themselves for their suffering to come. Some had already died in similar situations to Cheswick's and they were unable to do anything because the time to rebel and strike down the corrupted bureaucracy had not yet come and to reveal themselves to save their lost companions would have spelled out their defeat and the death of Dras Leona's freedom. But now it was different. They would not lose the war because they revealed themselves and their cause too early before they were ready to save a friend. They would reveal themselves to save their friend, to save themselves from defeat, and to win the war in the long run. The rescue of their companion Cheswick was not only in their interest but the interest of Dras Leona's freedom. For this reason, they steeled themselves for a fight they could not lose for the sake of Dras Leona's ascendancy but also for the sake of their emotions. They knew themselves to be brothers in arms and to leave one behind was more than they could bear. But here and now, they took their stand, and anticipated the coming of their freedom.

The captain first lifted up the cape with the Elite Squad's insignia. Swinging his blade down, he cut the cape off, signifying the removal of Cheswick from the order that represented the governing body of Dras Leona. Though many people of the crowd gasped, all five of the men grinned under their helmets as they watched Cheswick try not to smile at the freedom from the bureaucracy that the captain unknowingly gave him publically, in the eyes of all those who were present. Next he took of the sword that hung from Cheswick's waist and tossed it to the ground. A Fallen Blade… Finally, the captain took his stance next to Cheswick. As he did so, the five men pushed the protruding cap to the sphere hard feeling a satisfying click and the steadily increasing vibrations that filled their hand. The captain looked down on Cheswick with pain in his eyes as he was about to swing down. With a sharp exhale of breath, he lifted up his sword.

But as he did so, five of the ten members of the elite group present tore off their capes with a satisfying rip. The five capes were thrown in different directions, some towards other members of the elite group, one towards the captain and Cheswick and the rest towards the crowd surrounding them.

Unleashing their own blades, they swung out and cut the capes in half before they ever hit the ground, and in the middle of the cape where they cut the cape in two, they threw the spheres through the gaps. The spheres – hidden by the capes – exploded into a cloud of dust that burned the eyes and choked the lungs. Cheswick had long prepared himself as he held his breath at the moment. Two of the five revolutionaries quickly cleared a path for the escape. The other three quickly subdued the unsuspecting Elite Squad members who were still loyal to the bureaucracy.

In this moment Darman made his move. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he lunged forward towards the captain and Cheswick. He swung quickly and precisely. Low but fast, he cut through the chain that bound Cheswick's hands and Cheswick in turn bolted. Leaping through the path that the two made for him, Cheswick leaped on the horse that one of the two had mounted. The second mounted his own horse and served as an escort for Cheswick and the other companion.

The three made quick work of the of the two Elite Squad members. Two of the three remaining revolutionaries leaped on their horses and rode in different directions, and the last one strode forward to assist Darman with his task of the Elite Squad Captain. They swung their blades quickly with strength and vigor, but the captain refused to give ground.

_We have to end this soon before the other soldiers__ come to support the captain. _

Swinging and parrying, Darman kept up his relentless assault. The captain on the other hand knew that all he had to do was keep Darman and his companion in place until the soldiers and archers got into position to trap them. They might have lost Cheswick, but now that he knew what the men truly were, he could fight them without restraint. He felt the pain in his chest. He could feel the sorrow rising up within him as his brain had moments before understood that the men were rebels to the bureaucracy. Enemies to the government that he had helped build up from a young age. For their audacity in betraying him and the government he helped build, he vowed that he would not allow an inch of ground for their impudence.

Darman kept his assault with a grim mindset. They had to defeat the captain as soon as possible.

_I guess I'm lucky that I don't have any particular connection to this guy. It's a good thing we were recently transferred.__ Emotional attachments might be a bit risky at times like now. _

Focusing on the matter at hand, Darman put all of his will into defeating or at least disabling the captain… but to no avail. As Darman and his companion dragged the fight for almost a full minute, what they heard put dread into their hearts. Past the scattered crowd they heard the trudge of metal against dirt and stone, the faint march of soldiers. They were at least a minute away, and they definitely needed that minute in order to make a good getaway without fear of being tailed.

Suddenly, as Darman was in mid-swing, the captain's head snapped to the side as a rock impacted his helmet causing the man to stagger. His companion took the opportunity to kick the man squarely in the chest, and Darman kicked him in the abdominal region while he was lying on the ground – knocking the wind out of him – to ensure that though he was wearing armor, he would not be getting up for at least a minute or two before catching his breath.

Sprinting to their horses, Darman and his revolutionary companion rode off into the city. Riding with incredible speeds they kept on going until they nearly reached the poorest part of the city.

"That intersection up ahead looks good!" yelled Darman. Nodding to the alley that both men knew was to the right side of the intersection, they rode in at an angle.

At a signal from Darman, they utilized the smoke and burn sphere by throwing it in front of the horses when they reached the middle of the intersection which connected several streets. They leaped off the horses in the confusion and hid themselves in an alleyway, panting as they hid behind the crates and hoped the store owner would not have to come out back and toss out more trash. Looking back through a gap between two boxes stacked on each other, Darman noted with satisfaction the chaos behind them as no one knew where the two men had disappeared to.

"Let's rest for a minute," said the other man. "Make that thirty seconds. I want us back at the base within the next five minutes. We're going to have to be quick about it. If things have been done right, then everyone will be back at the base in ten minutes. We have to be back before everyone else to start deconstruction ASAP. If we have to move the whole base, it has to be done quickly." With that both men got up and sprinted towards the dead end at the opposite end of the alley way.

Putting on an extra burst of speed at the last moment, Darman jumped off the wall and hung onto ledge and began climbing. His companion did the same, and after about fifteen seconds, they reached the roof and began running towards the north-east. Leaping from building to building, climbing to the tops of higher ones, and leaping down to ones below, they made their way to the base. The base -as they called it - was a wide building that was run by the resistance. Feigning allegiance, the owner of the building was one of the main statistics keepers of the city. Understanding the people's needs simply by looking at the numbers of various supply statistics, the owner was sympathetic to the cause of removing the unjust government that ruled Dras Leona. The building itself consisted of several floors but there was a floor on the top that was inaccessible by conventional means. The entrance was behind a very heavy panel in the wall that because of its thickness could not be distinguished as separate from the walls. There was an entrance on the rooftop; however one could only come in through the entrance if they landed on the roof from a specific building. The roof itself was covered in a tarp that rested on a metal frame. There was a hidden opening that could only be seen from the said angle. It also served as a storage area and if one came up the ladder that led from the ground to the roof, one could inspect the roof and find nothing amiss. However, by entering through the ladder, they would gain access to the whole roof except the corner one would land on when entering the secret top floor. The corner itself was blocked off by cement and crates so that only by jumping from the nearby building could one reach the entrance. Also, because none of the buildings surrounding the base had windows on the side facing the base, one couldn't look and spot the entrance from there.

The resistance also placed various objects on surrounding roof tops so that no matter what angle the building was viewed from, the entrance was completely blocked. Everything had been done perfectly. There was to be no mistakes with a resistance on such a scale.

Eragon had slowed his sprint to a steady walk by the time he was within a mile of the city. The connection felt strong, and he felt full of energy as he strode forward along the path to his first step of ascendancy. Several people on horses and foot went by, but he took no notice of them. At the pace he was moving, it took another thirty minutes before the city finally came in sight. Eragon stretched his mind's eye as far as it could reach and faintly felt the city walls. But more importantly, he felt something else. A presence of power that felt warm, but strict. It was caring, but expecting. Most of all however, the presence felt dead.

It was then that Eragon realized what he was feeling. He recalled The Ancient One mentioning something along those lines.

_The presence of the once mighty can linger in the world if the attachment to a person or thing remains unfulfilled. What's left behind can be as complicated as their entire mind, or as __simple as a single thought. _

Walking off the road and into the woods nearby, Eragon trudged through the bushes and into the forest nearby. He kept on walking towards the direction the presence seemed to be in since with his mind's eye he could see into the mental world. But what he found surprised him and brought a sense of nostalgia. He felt somewhat ashamed that he had almost forgotten to stop and look. Looking down, he scanned the calm face of Brom. He recalled all that he had the pleasure of learning through Brom's intense combat and practical training. He recalled his calm nature and wished he was still there to see how far he had come. Sighing, he fell to his knees as the weight of his emotions brought him down. He looked down at the face of Brom, a glowing form in his mind's eyes, as every feature was shown vividly to him.

Suddenly, he felt the presence stronger than ever before and heard a voice. It whispered something to him, but he could not hear what it said. He strained his ears but to no avail. The presence remained silent, but it did not leave him. Looking down at Brom's face, he touched the crystalline barrier that separated him from his old mentor and whispered a prayer for the long fallen. Rising up with a stronger sense of motivational drive, Eragon returned to the path to Dras Leona. He covered the remaining distance within ten minutes. Those who happened to be on the path only saw a blur. He moved too fast for the human eye and brain to efficiently distinguish, track, and process his form as he sprinted towards the city. He quickly arrived at the gates but he did not slow down. Bending low as he ran, Eragon scooped up two large chunks of dust and dirt out of the ground and he sprinted onwards. As he neared, he could clearly see the guards looking at the oncoming dust storm with alarm. Within the blink of an eye, Eragon flung the dust chunks at the feet of the guard. The projectiles shattered and dispersed the moment they hit the ground forming clouds of dust at the entrance. Eragon, though not as fast as an elf, but faster than a human, sprinted through the dust and into the gates.

He sprinted past a surprised man who instinctively pulled up the shovel he was holding to protect his face. Unfortunately, his instincts had not accounted the fact that the shovel was in fact a shovel of manure he was about to dump onto a cart. As a result of the laws of physics concerning gravity, the shovel that was brought up to protect himself dropped its foul warhead directly onto the man's shirt. Cursing lividly, the man looked back up only to find confusion as the figure that so greatly disturbed his dreary and typical morning task was nowhere to be found. In his stupor, he failed to notice in the hustle of the city that his golden-tan horse had been spooked and was moving off at a notable pace towards its stable where it had grown with the understanding that the warm structure was free of unnaturally quick demons that could so frighteningly match its pace.

Oblivious to the tragedy he had induced, Eragon sprinted past people along the main street that led into the heart of Dras Leona and the massive cathedral that honored the worship of 'gods' long damned to a parasitic existence.

He ducked into a side road and after making several more quick moves, was able to hide himself in a small unoccupied street.

Finally arriving in the city, Eragon began to wonder what his next plan of action should be. He looked around with his mind's eye, stretching his mind to the its limits allowing him to not only sense the minds of the people around him, but see the minds as glowing forms of light along with the physical structures. He still had trouble seeing facial details as well as the textures and details of the buildings, but he could see the general structure. He could differentiate between men, women, and children as their slightly glowing outlines were all that was visible. Though he could not identify them by their faces, he could clearly see and identify them by the way they moved, however as time passed, seconds into minutes, and soon hours, the details that were so clear in the other world was becoming clear in this one. In the aspect of detail compensation however, he became an expert. Of course some people could identify others by the way they moved in a crowd and situations like that, but Eragon excelled far more simply because their movement was all he had to go by. Of course he could see the structure of a person's mind, but he could not simply memorize every single mind he saw.

Analyzing the movement of the people in the area, they all seemed to be drawn towards the gate.

_No doubt because of the commotion I caused…_ _I guess the best thing to do right now would be finding out the situation of the city. I've got to find who suffers the most but is not completely under the thumb of the government to the point where they can't do anything. _

But as if there was an answer to his new task, there was a sudden pull. The pull was a strong mental notion. It was almost physical, pushing him towards the other end of the line that connected him to an unknown object. Looking up, he was surprised that he did not notice the connection's location after he had started his run towards the Dras Leona, for as he looked up, he clearly saw that the end of the connection was somewhere within the city. But just as he was trying to comprehend the implications of that fact, he was surprised once again. The connection that came down was growing. It began to grow a second connection where it came back down to the city from the sky. The connection branched out from the first one, but it was much thinner. Never the less, it was still connected to the first one, so they had to be related to the same purpose. Soon, another arm was attached to a second unknown object in the city.

_Well this complicates the plan somewhat…__ if you could even call it a plan…_

Close to the southern section of the city, a young man hammered away at a piece of heated iron. He was thrilled that the government had given his guild the contract to research and develop a more efficient kind armor for the city's troops. But despite this moment for the guild, there was something that kept nagging him.

_Why did they add a threat? It was completely unnecessary and stupid. They knew that we would've taken the offer at the first chance. So why would they be stupid enough to add a threat? __Were they afraid we would say no?_

As he finally put down the metal bar on a rack that held entire rows of them, he heard a sudden drone of people. It was the sounds made when something interesting happened. He quickly put down his tools and took out the larger pieces of wood that held the furnace a blaze. Taking off his gloves and wiping off his sweat with his sleeve, he strode towards the wide open double doors. Dipping his hands in the barrel of cold water outside the door, he splashed the water against his face, allowing the cold water to water to wash away his weariness as if it were a physical ailment. Looking around he noticed the direction people were walking in and began to do the same. Following people to the left of the door, he walked on.

The people were gathered around a platform used by government criers and speakers when a new order or proclamation was issued. The young man was filled with dread as he looked and saw the anger that filled and consumed the people. On top of the platform was a crier holding a roll of parchment reading off another proclamation. Listening intently, the young man strained his ears from the back of the large crowd.

"The government of Dras Leona has declared that the current income from taxes is not sufficient to offset the costs of maintaining our glorious city. For this reason, taxes on sales will be increased by eight percent and –" but the man did not finish his sentence as the crowd surged into an uproar and began throwing stones and other things that happened to be nearby. The young man knew that this was a very bad situation, both for the people and for the town crier. He knew that the people could easily kill the town crier in their rage, though the crier's job was simply to proclaim the will of the government. The people in turn were in danger of committing a terrible crime, and if it were to be carried out, then the bureaucracy would punish the people.

_I can't allow that to happen. If this turns out as bad as it could be, the bureaucracy can try to stamp down on the people even further as punishment. And if this truly is the last straw, then there might be a rebellion. But without organization, how can the rebellion possibly hope to stand against the government?_

Thinking quickly, the young man noticed scaffolding that rose along the buildings next to his forge. He quickly climbed the ladder and began to run along the long wooden boards that steadily rose. Sprinting fast, he finally reached the scaffolding area that was above the platform. The young crier below was looking frantically as the crowd rushed towards the platform, some climbing, others rocking it.

Grabbing a pebble that was on the scaffolding, the young man threw it at the feet of the crier to get his attention. The crier who was already dodging projectiles as best as he could immediately noticed the pebble that was thrown from the unexpected direction. Looking up at the scaffolding with fear in his eyes, he saw the young man beckoning and holding out his hands. The crier, unsure of what to do at first quickly understood what the young man intended. Running to the right side of the platform, he braced himself and then shot towards the left end of the platform and the scaffolding. To his great luck, the enraged crowd rocked the platform back and forth. However, at the moment of his leap, they rocked it towards the left, adding even more momentum allowing him to close the gap between the platform and the scaffolding with little effort.

The young man grabbed the crier's hand as he jumped and nearly fell off the scaffolding due to the crier's momentum… but he held on. Pulling the man up while simultaneously looking for an escape route, he noticed that the scaffolding continued onwards and upwards to a second building that was just completed. They quickly scaled the scaffolding and climbed on top of the building. But just as the two men stood on top of the building, the binders on the scaffolding that they climbed the building with snapped. The entire structure fell before the members of the crowd running up the scaffolding could climb up to the roof where the two men were. At first the young man hesitated, wondering what could have caused this. A fraction of a second later he chose to ignore it, and promptly yelled to the crier to follow him. They jumped down to a lower building that was next to the new one and began climbing down towards the streets. They could hear the crowds running after them and knew they didn't have much time before the crowd would run around the corner to find them climbing down the decrepit building, utilizing the various handholds made by deteriorated bricks.

Knowing they were short on time, they young man yelled, "Jump!" The two men fell ten feet and crashed to the ground. They quickly got up, rubbing their aching legs and understood their fears to be realized. About fifty meters behind them, a portion of the crowd turned around the corner and one of its members spotted them. They two men began to sprint down the street and were making good progress. All was well until a section of the mob that initially ran in the other direction in their search for them turned into the street just up ahead. Spotting them, the crowd began to converge on them, roaring their anger against the government. The young man looked with disdain at the two crowds converging and he considered this to be the end for the crier and himself.

All of a sudden, there was a loud cracking and groaning sound, and suddenly the fronts of two buildings collapsed on either side blocking off the oncoming two crowds.

_You've got to be kidding me! __It's as if the gods are on our side! Though I doubt it's the gods of Helgrind, whoever or whatever is doing this, thank you!_

Sprinting down the street and incredulous towards what was going on, the two ran for a full thirty minutes before ducking into an alleyway **(1)** to breathe and allow the lactic acid in their muscles to dissipate.

Their legs and chests burning the two men sank to the ground panting deeply. The crier looked to the young man and shook his hand earnestly choking out thanks between his breaths. Putting his hand on his shoulder the young man spoke his thoughts.

"Look friend, I understand that you were only speaking out the orders of the advisory council of the governor, but never the less, the people have associated you with the government. Now is definitely not a good time to be spouting out the government's propaganda and words of 'guidance' for the people. I'd highly suggest that you get out of the business. It seems like it will be your undoing…"

Nodding furiously, the crier spoke a word of thanks, got up and walked towards the main street. Tearing up his clothes and throwing dirt on it as well as his face, he soon became indistinguishable from the other people on the streets. It occurred to the young man that this might not actually be the first time this happened to him.

Walking slowly back to the forge, the young man felt tired after the affair, though it had only been an hour. Everything felt surreal to him. The people around him seemed to flow like water, and his thoughts and movement were sluggish. As he neared the forge, he looked forward to a good rest. He imagined the cold water that would wash away his sweat and weariness and the warm sheets that would welcome his exhausted body. But before he could walk into the doors of the forge, a shout cut through his reverie, and he soon found himself in the middle of a very annoyed and angry mob. A short bent over man with wild and dwindling hair stalked up to him, his beard fluttering in the wind.

"So just because you received that commission from the government, the son of Arborin thinks he can just whisk away our beloved government crow, eh?" Understanding how dangerous the situation was about to become, the young man backed away.

_I'm such an idiot! Of course they would come after me if they saw me. I just helped a government crony __get away… this isn't looking good._

"You think just because your Arborin's son you'll get away with this?" "Of course not, but then again I did just save you from making a mistake that the government would penalize you for."

The old man immediately swelled with rage and began yelling various obscene lines at the young man. Under other circumstances, he would have laughed at this absurd situation; the old man yelling at him with his wispy hair and shaggy beard that kept blowing in his face thanks to the breeze. But the crowd was being egged on by the rage that seemed to come out in torrents from the man.

The young men felt a thud and something hard against his back and he knew he was against a wall. Looking around, the crowd wasn't getting any less angry, and he definitely didn't like where this was going. Feeling the wall with his hands, he deftly and subtly began to explore while the man rambled on and deferred to the crowd once in a while during his raging assertions. His hands finally found what it was looking for: the barrel of cold water. Waiting for the man to turn and speak to the crowd once more, the young man found his opportunity in patience. When the old man turned around the young man swung the cold water barrel in an ark dousing the man and the arc of people that had formed around him. Sprinting through a gap created the young man ran for his life as the crowd began to run after him. But after a full minute of running as fast as he could, he still found them at his heels.

Finally, it was the end. He could not go any further. The running from only an hour ago coupled with his extreme sprinting had taken its toll. He could not go any further. As he struggled to move on he collapsed as his legs gave up the ghost beneath him. Breathing heavily he could only watch in fear as the crowd came at him.

_No! I can't let this be the end. These people are going to be the end of me despite the fact that I actually helped them. They've gone mad with rage and they don't realize the consequences of their actions. _

Forcing himself to his feet, he tried to move but could not. He could only stand. As the tall buildings cast shadows into the intersection, he awaited the crowd that walked forward. They looked upon him with anger, contempt, and satisfaction after realizing that he couldn't move.

Accepting it as his end, he resigned himself and looked on with a blank expression on his face. A man stepped forward brandishing a stick. With a roar, he charged forward leading the people behind him at the young man. But suddenly, the ground in front of him exploded. The cobblestone shattered into infinitesimal pieces and the ground cracked sending dust everywhere. The young man coughed and wobbled as he tried to stay standing. Ultimately he failed, and as the dust cleared he looked on.

What he saw shocked him. With his back to the young man, a man clothed in an unreal set of clothes stood tall and menacingly. But most striking, was the fact that his head was completely covered in stripped cloth as well. Without turning, the man spoke. "So you are the one I've been searching for. It seems unfortunate that you've had to deal with this all this nonsense, but rest assured, I'm here to help."

The man with the stick was intimidated by the stunning display of power by the man that fell from the sky, but the power of being a part of the crowd consumed him. He surged forward once again, but the clothed man dodged the initial strike, punched the charging man in the stomach and kicked him back into the crowd. Three more men surged to fill his place. The clothed man lunged at the one to the right, swatting away his swinging arm as if it was nothing, and then delivering a swift punch to the ribs and a kick to the knee. The man fell with a howl, but before he even began to bend his knees as he fell to the ground, the clothed man had already moved on to the second man. His movements were incredibly fast to the point where the second man was only half-way through a swing with his metal rod by the time the clothed man was finished with the first man.

He too was dispatched within an instant as the clothed man ducked to avoid the blow and delivered quick jabs to the joints that connected his pelvis to his legs. As the man yelled out in pain, the clothed man dropped low and kicked the feet out from under the now disabled man. All of this happened within three seconds.

Kicking the third man in the shin before he could properly get into a fighting stance, the clothed man picked the man up and threw him into several unsure members of the charging crowd. Picking up the stick he found on the ground, the clothed man swung the stick in wide arcs repelling the crowd. Suddenly he stopped and put his hand to his head, and as he did so, the stone and dirt just in front of him shot up forming a wall. Before the young man could say anything the clothed man picked up him up as if he would with a cloth sack.

Sprinting down the street faster than the young man could've thought possible, the two were completely out of the area within seconds. The young man saw everything as a blur but was sure he did not know the layout of this area of the city.

After sprinting several blocks away from the crowd Eragon found brought them closer to the safe zone he found. Entering the poor area of the city, the buildings towered over them as people attempted to see what was speeding through their midst. Finally, rounding a corner past various food stands and other services Eragon found what he was looking for. An overhang formed by a building revealed a crowd of people sitting underneath for whatever shelter from the environment the overhang could provide. Without even looking at the stranger who approached them, the people sat warming themselves as the afternoon cold began to set in. Walking towards the back of the room underneath the overhang, Eragon set the young man down and leaned against the wall, allowing the young man a moment to catch his breath.

"Well you looked like you were in a bad situation. I am somewhat surprised at the crowd. I didn't think they hated the government to the point where they'd abandon all reason in order to kill someone."

"Well you can't really blame them considering how they've been treated thus far. And now the government is stamping down even further… and I can't do a thing about it."

"Do you think I saved you back there just so you could sit around and sulk in your uselessness?"

The young man sat back and thought about everything that had happened, from the incredible rescue to the previous events of the day. Finally, his thoughts returned to his rescuer.

_His prowess in magic is unparalleled… I don't know that much about magic but I have heard that some special words are involved with its use… for him to be able to act out magi__c without speaking must mean he's either an expert magic user or a complete idiot, but from what I've seen, it definitely isn't the latter. Seems like a pretty useful asset… but who is he?_

"As I said, I didn't just save you so you could go somewhere and be useless. There's a revolution about to take place in this city. And I have a hunch you're going to be an important part of it."

"What? You expect me to join the resistance? I've heard they've been causing some trouble but there's no way they can fight the government at the level of trouble they're dealing out."

"I understand that perfectly well and I'm going to change that."

The young man hesitated trying to make sense of the ridiculous situation he found himself in.

_I'm being chased by a mo__b purely out of rage for defending a speaker for the ruling government. I tried returning after some time but that didn't help since the people were clearly still angry… so I suppose I can't return to the forge… And now I've been rescued by some guy with some kind of special rags for clothes that happens to be a capable magic user and an efficient fighter. He claims to be a part of this resistance, but all of this is so ridiculous, it seems too good to be true! So what should I do?_

Pondering his dilemma, the man began wondering whether he should accept the clothed man's offer of joining the resistance. But in the time span of the young man's thoughts, Eragon had already slowed the world down as he rose to a higher level of thought process and began to think on matters of his own personal concern at speeds that would baffle the minds of a human or even an elf though his physical body had yet to reach that level.

_Finding this guy has been annoying, but seeing him now right in front of me… I have no doubt he has the heart of a revolutionist._

Sighing inwardly, Eragon assessed his physical and mental state. _The speed I had at the level of an elf isn't fully returned to me, but this body is improving. I can clearly feel my body growing slightly faster. I suppose under normal conditions I wouldn't know this, but with this enhanced mind… I'm seeing a particular clarity with this body. It's almost as if I'm controlling an army, and with every move I make, my mind is able to command my body to move faster, stronger, and more efficiently. I haven't seen any huge improvements on my mind after the training with The Ancient One, but even still my body has a huge length to cross to catch up with it. This whole experience of trying to find this guy has been quite interesting. If I physically exert my mind now, I can affect this world just as I was able to in the other world. _

_It wasn't much of an issue breaking that scaffolding, although tearing it down like that was probably what caused that pain in my head. But after that… the ability to affect physical objects increased has improved greatly to the point where it doesn't hurt as much to use it. It took a lot less effort to simply tear down those buildings to block the two crowds off… It was even less of an issue for me to make that wall out of the ground. It all seems very amazing but then where is the limit? The limits of magic are clear. We are limited to the words we know, further 'improvisation' is rather dangerous… power is drawn from our physical bodies, and the energy that is drawn is equated to the energy required to do the task manually. But that doesn't seem to apply to using my mind instead. I feel no drawback in terms of energy and the only thing that seems to be limiting me is the distance. _

_It seems like that is one common thing that this has to do with magic… I guess one limitation is distance, but for the use of such a power there has to be some kind of rule, it has to be more than simply distance… On another case, I have to discover what these connections are… It seems way too convenient that these metaphysical connections just happened to guide me to a person who could help me in liberating this city… There is some force at work here and I have to find out what's going on. If only Master was here, but I suppose I can't rely on the man for everything… he's given me the tools I need to liberate this city. No, he's given me the tools to liberate Alagaesia. If I can get more help from him, then I'll accept it, but I've already received an incredible power that has the potential to rise to the level that I saw on that road earlier… by that other man…_

_Who am I to __think of accepting even more power? Who am I to ask for it? If I can defeat Galbatorix with this strength, then why should I go further… Bah, I don't have the time for this right now. I'll think about this later… Oh! I guess he's done his thinking too. _

The young man looked up after pondering on where to continue the odd interaction from after about ten seconds. Eragon marveled to himself on how quickly he could utilize his mind to think about so many things in such a short period of time. Turning his attention to the young man, he awaited the response.

The young man looked up hesitantly at the clothed man, but his voice was strong when he spoke. "I don't know who you are and what the agenda of this resistance is. But, you've helped me escape from that crowd and I'm starting to think on other occasions as well,"

_Oh, he's a quick thinker…_

"and even though I'm not sure what purpose you have in liberating the city, I think that a person willing to save me without even causing a single injury to anyone involved must have some kind of good moral basis. I suppose that I'll accept your offer and help in whatever way I can."

Eragon chuckled at the humor in the situation and replied to the young man's response.

"Well I suppose I can say that I have a strong moral basis though I would also say that morality cannot truly be defined by us mortal beings. But that's a philosophical argument we don't have the time to talk about. I myself just arrived at this city, and I suppose you can call it a form of intuition that led me to you. I know there is a resistance in this city based on information I've received on the streets but I myself am not a part of it. I'm someone who has a personal interest in freeing this city from its government and the unnatural beasts that are worshipped in this city. But before I can do that, I need someone who could help me in the task. The person has to be efficient and one of the best in their work, and what I need right now is a person who can help design and make tools for the work ahead. Once the preliminary preparations are done, then we shall contact the resistance and show them what we are capable of. From there we will have not only prestige from our initial actions in disabling the government, but further resources found in financing and a human work force from the alliance made with the current resistance. I'd prefer not to plan any specifics further than we have to considering the many different directions we can take this. Anyway, since you've accepted I guess now's a good time as any to start moving forward with our plan. I'm going to need armor and some clothes for what I have in mind… No, never mind. I'll need some weapons and equipment, but I won't need the armor."

Holding out his hand, Eragon pulled the young man up to his feet. "I may be able to make whatever you need to your specifications, but without my forge and equipment, I won't be able to do much for you."

"That won't be an issue. I'll get your equipment back. Then you give me the specifications and I'll build you a better and more efficient forge than your old one."

Impressed that the stranger was offering him all the tools he needed, the young man grinned and replied, "Let's get started then!" Walking out of the room, Eragon analyzed the situation and knew that for the plan to be successful, he had to be able to blend in with the crowd. He needed to be completely inconspicuous to possess the flexibility to work with the people unnoticed by the government and any possible organizations present in Dras Leona; organizations being the possible intelligence network that he had been suspecting Galbatorix of spreading throughout Alagaesia, and with the clothes he was wearing, that wasn't possible at the moment. He needed to assume a role in society that would be unnoticed but would allow him to be flexible.

_But other than that, i__t looks like I'll have to confirm the existence of that network since we cannot liberate the city and instantly be ready for the attack that will no doubt be led by Murtagh. If we are able to liberate the city, there's even the possibility that the intelligence network will have its own resistance, ready to fight us the minute we attain power. And even that is a fairly big if, since if we are trying to liberate the city, we'd have to fight the intelligence network for every bit of ground. _

_Then there's the fact that there could possibly be traitors within the resistance that could lead to its downfall in the long run… they will have to be removed… _

_Finally, there's the issue of the Raz'ac… If anything, they'd be the second target after the intelligence network. But, if they are in constant contact with the network, I'll have to eliminate them simultaneously so that the Raz'ac cannot fly off and alert Galbatorix. But, if I don't have the network under control, then they could alert Galbatorix as well, thought it make take slightly longer for them to do so… Of course! _

_By ignoring the intelligence network and the Raz'ac, I can work to stir up agitation and resistance against the city's bureaucracy. But once I do, I'll contact the resistance to form the alliance. When I've done that, I can use the resistance to monitor and regulate Galbatorix's network while I deal with the Raz'ac. It's all so simple! But what can I do that'll impress the resistance enough to the point where they'd be willing to make the alliance but also be willing to trust me unquestioningly… _

_Attacking the bureaucracy in a full frontal assault would be a bit much… attacking their army would be misguiding since the issue is with the government, not the army that must follow its orders…_

At this moment however, a piece of paper flew idly past Eragon. Though he would usually ignore it, he had the urge to grab it, and in doing so he found his answer. The leaflet was a government issue, and its decree would serve to be sickening to most, but glorious to others. It told of the capture of a rebel consort at the hand of the government, and his soon to be placed execution at a location within the city. From what he understood, the location was reserved for higher level executions rather than the typical . Scanning the document, Eragon absorbed the information to the best of his abilities, though he found that with his more powerful mind, he could remember things at a level profoundly higher than before. As he let go of the leaflet, he thought about the situation and decided the best thing to do at the moment would be to examine the execution grounds. Asking around, he found the location quickly and he called the young man to him. "It seems that in my haste to move forward, I forgot to ask a fairly important but simple detail." "Oh? And what would that be?"

Eragon chuckled and asked, "What is your name?" The young man laughed at the absurdity of the situation and replied "Liridon." Walking onwards towards the execution area, they continued to talk and exchange bits of information that they knew or had discovered somehow. Eventually, the discussion led to the construction of Liridon's new forge. "Do you have any location in mind?" asked Eragon. "It seems like we'd have to find one that's in a location where we can't be found. "Well I suppose we could work out a location but you still need to get some equipment made before you free that guy right?"

"I guess I would but it's somewhat specialized in nature, and I'd need a bit of design on your part. Is your forge up to the task?" Liridon smiled at the question and proudly replied, "Our forge isn't as big as others so what we make up with quantity, must be made with quality. We usually have several, pretty smart researchers studying on how to develop weapons and armor. It shouldn't be too hard to have them help us make any specialized equipment for you. Some will have to be left out of the loop since they're too obsessed with the money they make off of the government. They could be manipulated into thinking we work for the government if I say that I helped a government courier, so I suppose we could achieve a faster completion of the project that way, though we'd do it with the risk of the government finding out somehow."

_He's surprisingly perceptive. He'd make an excellent leader for t__he resistance in Dras Leona. He'd have to work his way up through the ranks, but I'm sure that with his talent and skill, it will not be a problem. The fact that he can also think innovatively in terms of armor and weapons development will also help immensely. _

As they walked on, the two continued in silence while they considered the plan of action after the examination of the execution grounds. Within minutes however, they found themselves in the area of the court yard that led to the execution grounds. Looking up at the average sized building before them, Eragon noted the cracked walls, its gothic style structure, and the two large flags hanging from the left and right half of the front of the building. A large set of double-doors – now open – was set in the middle and opened into a massive courtyard with plenty of room for the throng of people that would soon inhabit the area. The walls of the courtyard had a second floor from which the nobles could watch, and in the very center stood a stone platform for execution. The platform had two pillars that rose up and supported a stone slab that was horizontally placed on both pillars. Chains were attached to both platforms that held the prisoner in place while the platform itself had grooves from which the blood of the executed would flow down.

The stone ground had a metallic scent that cried out the baptism of blood it underwent, and Eragon grimaced at the thought of how the prisoners were executed.

_This is where it shall happen…_ _where I can make my move…_

Turning, the two walked out with a grim attitude. The entire place seemed to exude a feeling of subjugation and death, and through what was to come, they swore to themselves to tear those feelings down.

As they walked down the street, the distant rumble of thunder echoed across the cityscape. Eragon stretched his minds to the limits in search of a structure or location they could use, but to no avail. He had hoped for an abandoned building, but none were to be found. Suddenly, an idea struck him.

"Liridon, take me to the forge. I think I have an idea for what we can do about that new location we can use." With a shrug, Liridon began leading the winding way through the city towards the forge. It didn't take long for them to reach it, but by the time they did, the distant rumble ascended into a raging storm that blew wind and rain at the inhabitants of the city, forcing some to go inside, but many to continue their work in the pouring rain.

On the way to the forge, Eragon purchased two large and heavy cloaks using coins he had been pick-pocketing from various noblemen who had the misfortune of bumping into the 'blind' man. The cloaks were large and heavy and its hoods hung low on their heads. As they walked towards the doors of the forge, Eragon held out his hand, and once again spread out his mind into the forge. He could faintly see two glimmering forms of light in the room; one however shone far more brightly than the other. Eragon held out his hand behind him, signaling Liridon to stop. Placing his ear against the door, he could faintly hear two voices. One voice was a woman's that made his heart skip a beat. Her voice was beautiful and entrancing, but firm and very angry by the sound of it. The other voice, he could not recognize but it seemed to be thoroughly frightened by whatever the situation was.

He could faintly see their outlines, though much of it was obscured by the walls of the building. Reaching out with a tendril of thought, Eragon spoke to the mind of the brightly lit person.

_It's been quite a while since we last saw each other… or at least it has been for me. _

As the thoughts moved towards the mind, walls shot up around it, but after spending so much time on using his mind to manipulate the physical and metaphysical, what would have been an impregnable barrier before, was now a simple matter of deconstruction. He spread his mind around hers and applied a constant pressure, but not one that would smother her mind with his presence. But no matter how much pressure he placed on her mind, she would not bend or break. Finally, Eragon gave upon the method and shifted to another one. He withdrew mentally, but kept himself close enough so that she knew he was still there.

Taking a deep breath, Eragon raised his level of thought and his mind once again became a higher level being. He watched her mind intently and waited for the exact moment that she would make her move. She hesitated within her walled fortress, but as two seconds dragged on to five with their quicker minds, she eventually decided to take the initiative. Her mind shot out like a lance, but Eragon was waiting for this. To an elevated mental speed, her mind moved sluggishly, and the instant her mind lost concentration on her defense as she switched to attack, Eragon had launched his assault. Spreading his mind once again, Eragon closed in around the mind from all sides. With his mind's eye, he could clearly see her mind struggling to escape, but with the way he had her stopped, her mind could not attack him without him halting the attack. Having efficiently disabled her, Eragon then spoke the words again and as he did so, he saw her mind recede. He knew that if he was not in the heightened sense of thought, it would have been instantaneous, but he watched her recede back into her mental core and stay there.

Eragon took the moment to withdraw from his mental state and opened the door before him.

Standing in front of him, with her piercing gaze looking at him questioningly, a hand on her hip, and the other clenched into a fist at her side, was Arya.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Sheesh that was a hefty read. If the chapter seems way too long, let me know and I'll shorten it, but writing a longer chapter seems more compelling than the previous short ones.

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**Story Notes**

**(1) Alleyways seem to be playing a key role in the fight against evil, eh?**


End file.
